


His Beautiful Calamity

by LTiger (Lazarusmycroft)



Category: MorMor - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Drug Use, F/M, Knife Play, M/M, Mental Instability, Murder, Oral Sex, Self Harm, Sex, Strong Language, Violence, mention of suicide, slight BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 72,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarusmycroft/pseuds/LTiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian's life hasn't been perfect, he's had his share of trouble and Jim Moriarty has seen most of it, unknown to the sniper.  He finds himself indebted to London's most powerful man when he helps secure his release from prison, Jim helps for his own, less than pure reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caged Animal

He stood in the stark grey concrete hallway of the prison entry way awaiting the guard. He was trying unsuccessfully to ignore the simpering idiot who was moving nervously about like a little puppy trying to please it's master. It was damp and smelled of sweat and stale coffee and he simply couldn't wait to finish this unpleasant errand.

He adjusted his cuffs and smoothed his absurdly expensive tie as he watched the over-weight guard come waddling toward him, heels clicking with an echo on the hideous tile floor.

"Mr. Moriarty, sir, we're ready for you. Are ya...are ya quite sure you want to do this? It's just, he's...not quite... _right_ , sir."

Jim Moriarty eyed the prison guard momentarily with his depthless black eyes and then he adjusted the half Windsor knot at his throat. When he spoke, his words were measured and precise and his soft Irish accent only helped to enhance the desired effect; fear.

"If I weren't _entirely_ certain, rest assured, I would not be here. Show me the way."

The guard blinked nervously and Jim could see tiny beads of sweat on his forehead as he nodded and turned to go back in the direction from which he came. Jim followed him feeling annoyed at the unnecessary conversation, he hated foolish questions and he hated wasting time but above that he hated human contact and he wouldn't be here today, at Wormwood Scrubs detention facility, if he'd had any alternative.

Men like Jim Moriarty didn't usually do the mundane tasks like interviews and recruiting but since he had been observing this particular man and his talents for quite a few years now he decided to handle this personally. He needed to discover for himself if the risk of taking him on would be truly worth it, the man was known to be a loose cannon at times but he was an outstanding shot and rumored to be one of the most horrifically ruthless men in Europe, aside from himself, of course.

They finally reached the reinforced steel door with a tiny window of seven millimeter poly-carbonate glass set into it and Jim noticed the two guards standing there seemed to stiffen upon his arrival. He smirked at them each and committed their young faces to his memory, just in case. The guard who had escorted him took his key card from his pocket and swiped it in the key pad, he then typed in a six digit code which was comically easy to read and Jim rolled his eyes at the stupidity of these ordinary people.

The guard briefly looked over his shoulder to where Jim was standing before turning the handle and pushing open the door, an irritating buzzing sounded and Jim gritted his teeth in annoyance. This place was so ceaselessly noisy that it would drive anyone insane. The room was just as cold, grey and gloomy as the rest of the institution and Jim wrinkled his nose slightly at the heavy odor of cigarette smoke that hung in the air like a thick fog. Smoking was no longer permitted indoors but it would be years before the odor dissipated.

The place was littered with Formica tables and hard, ugly plastic chairs. He stood in the doorway for a moment as his eyes adjusted and then his gaze settled on _him_. The man whom he had come to see. He sauntered lazily over to where the man was seated, he wore a grey jumpsuit with a number patch sewn onto the front which read **V46921** and he lifted his gaze from his lap when he heard Jim approaching.

His ginger hair was cropped short and his face was unshaven and scruffy. There was a very faint scar above his right eye that split his eyebrow and caused his lid to droop ever so slightly. He was in excellent shape with perfect bone structure and well formed muscles that were just visible beneath the ugly clothing. Jim knew that he stood about six feet tall and he possessed the agility of a jungle cat but the thing which struck Jim above all else were the man's eyes. They were gunmetal grey and just as cold with almost imperceptible lines at the edges that were only apparent when he smiled, as he did now but that wasn't all. He also noticed that when he _did_ smile the warmth of it didn't reach those fierce eyes.

Jim grinned knowingly in return and seated himself at the table across from where the man lounged. The two men sat across from one another at that grimy little table in the poorly lit room and sized the other up, each taking the measure of the other man. Finally Jim Moriarty leaned forward making sure not to let his expensive suit coat touch the soiled table. His aphotic eyes roved over the man's face one last time and then he spoke slowly and precisely.

"Sebastian Moran. My name is Jim Moriarty."

Sebastian just stared arrogantly back across the table and Jim felt a pang of annoyance. His name typically caused a look of fear or at the very least, shock. But here this man sat unblinkingly and wearing a look of complete disinterest. Fine, Jim thought, he simply needed a cause to fear him.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Sebastian asked before Jim could speak again.

Jim sat back in his chair and crossed his left leg over his right, propping his ankle on his knee. He gently pressed the tips of his long, white fingers together and placed them lightly at his lips as he studied Sebastian. Jim noted first off the subtle, northern Irish accent and he had to admit, it pleased him being of northern Irish descent himself, not that he would ever confide that information in anyone, ever.

He also noticed the guarded way in which he held himself, his shoulders hunched slightly which commonly indicated a desire to protect one's self even though he sat back languidly and seemingly at ease. He was obviously more insecure than he wished anyone to know. Just visible from under the long sleeves of the prison issued jumpsuit Jim was able to make out tattoos on each wrist, at his angle he couldn't tell what they were but it seemed obvious that they snaked up both of his forearms. Sebastian caught his gaze and smirked cockily.

Jim was involuntarily aroused though that was something the other man would never be aware of.

"Sebastian, I am in a rather... _advantageous_ position, for you, that is. I have the means to elevate your current situation to one more...shall we say, favourable."

Jim watched as Sebastian continued to sneer at his remarks and he felt his temper quickly rising to the surface. Silently he counted to ten and then, having composed his features once more he spoke with an air of arrogance to match this smug man sitting across from him.

"I'm only going to make this offer once Sebastian, I suggest you pay very close attention."

The icy cold eyes of the convict flashed angrily and then they were blank once again. His face showed that he was angry with himself for allowing his emotion to show and Jim judged, quite correctly, that the man sitting in front of him was cunning and capable but with a rare individuality. Perfect. Sebastian now leaned forward in the chair and leaned his muscled, tattooed forearms on the table's surface as he studied Jim.

Jim found himself strangely intrigued, other ordinary people did not usually pique his interest yet he found himself deeply curious about this man. He wanted to peel him back layer by layer and discover what it was that hid beneath the facade.

"Tell me then, sir. I am simply _dying_ to know what this offer is." Sebastian put both large hands out, palms up as he gestured around the vacant room. "I've got nothing better to do."

His mouth quirked once more into that irritating little smirk as he sat back leisurely crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sebastian, I am not a man who enjoys playing games. You are looking at five years in here, at the very least. I am here because I am able to offer you an early parole."

Now Jim sat back and watched as Sebastian processed the information. For a long time nothing was said as the two men eyed one another. Sebastian regarded Jim shrewdly for a few minutes, his cold eyes seemed to be drinking in every aspect of Jim's face. Jim kept his expression innocent and unreadable, he had not become the most powerful man in Europe by not possessing a legendary poker face.

"How exactly are you planning on getting me paroled so soon, I've only been in six months and I haven't exactly been a good boy," He quirked one corner of his mouth into a grin, "I very much doubt that even you, Mr. Moriarty, can secure my release. Thanks for the offer though, I think what I'd need is a magician not a puffed up businessman."

He sat back and waited now, obviously hoping he had pushed a few buttons. It was Jim's turn to smirk now. He made a dramatic show of checking his watch and he arched his eyebrows severely as though he was immensely shocked by the late hour.

"I am a very busy man my dear, if you don't want my help then I do not aim to thrust it upon you." Here he paused and looked all around the room then he made to stand up. "I'd better be off, meetings this after noon."

As he began walking towards the door he heard the metal legs of the chair scrape against the tile floor, the sound reverberating off the walls.

"Wait."

Jim stood with his back to the man and smiled.

"Who are you? Really."

He turned and went back to the table, purposely taking his time. He stood and held his hand toward the chair that the criminal had been occupying indicating that he wished him to be seated once more. When Sebastian sat he did the same, unbuttoning his suit coat as he did so.

"As you said earlier, I'm a businessman Sebastian, no more, no less. Though I do take offense that you think me 'puffed up'. I am simply an investor."

"What can an ' _investor_ ' like yourself need with a man like me then?" Sebastian inquired as he eyed him hungrily now, evidently Jim finally had the man's full attention and Jim responded in a low voice that was almost a purr,

"I'm investing."

He let the words hang between them before continuing.

"I can secure your release from this place within the next few days, paperwork being what it is I can't promise that it will be any sooner than the end of the week."

He wrinkled his nose in a show of irritation at the thought of all the mind numbing paperwork as though he himself would be responsible for it, which of course, was untrue.

"I would dearly love nothing more than to have you walk out of here today but, it will be soon. I also would love to have your record expunged and it may be possible in the future but for now your release will have to do. It's really a terribly unfortunate thing though, you being falsely accused and what's worse being imprisoned when you've done nothing wrong. The police who arrested you were taking bribes you know. "

He paused again and gazed intently at Sebastian who had the decency at least to look incredulous.

"There's really nothing I hate more than dirty cops. They're just so...unpredictable, they're far too driven by money. As I said, by the end of the week you will be a free man once more."

Sebastian was silent for a moment as he processed this information and Jim thought vaguely to himself that he liked the fact that the man's face was unreadable, he would be truly useful.

"So, by accepting your offer of help you're telling me that I walk out of here free and that the men who arrested me will probably go to prison?"

Jim smiled and nodded his head very slowly.

"You are the victim here Sebastian. You were set up and have been forced to endure six months of this...hell just because of some very nasty cops. Isn't that simply horrendous?"

Sebastian's face broke into a smile and for just an instant there was a look of pure admiration behind those cold, grey eyes. He began to laugh, a quiet shaking of his broad shoulders at first which slowly became louder and then he was leaning forward, baring all his bright, white teeth and Jim found him beautiful and once more he felt the urge to strip him bare and discover what laid beneath his tough exterior, soon, he told himself.

Jim stood once again and buttoned his coat as he adjusted his tie, Sebastian followed suit and stood as well.

"You'll be released by the end of the week, I know this has been a...harrowing...experience for you and you have been through so very much but just stay strong and we'll have this cleared up soon. I can't even imagine the mental anguish you have been through."

As Jim prepared to leave Sebastian spoke again having composed himself.

"I don't know how I can ever repay you, Mr. Moriarty." He said with a tiny hint of skepticism in his voice.

Jim reached into his inside breast pocket and pulled out a business card, he handed it to Sebastian. He looked down at the expensively made card and read the gold lettering:

**_MI, Moriarty Investments, Ltd._ **

**_London_ **

**_James Moriarty, Consultant_ **

"I'm sure that we will find some way for you to repay me, I'll be in touch. Good day."

Just as he reached the heavy steel door and was about to press the button to be released Sebastian spoke again.

"I'm afraid I may not be the man you think I am."

His voice was low but it carried across the room. Jim didn't respond he simply pressed the button and heard the cacophonous buzz of the lock being released. As he was about to step through the door he paused as though he were thinking and then he said,

"I look forward to our next meeting, Sebastian Moran."

Jim allowed the guard at the front of the building to hold the door open for him as he annoyingly simpered his "good bye's" and "nice seeing you's". Jim made a mental note to have him removed so he wouldn't have to deal with the irritating man again. He pulled his aviator sunglasses from his pocket and put them on as he made his way to the sleek black car at the curb. When he was comfortably nestled inside the luxurious vehicle he pulled out his mobile and sent several short text messages off to various subordinates then he sat back and gazed out at the dismal London street as it flashed by, he was deep in thought.


	2. Setting Traps

Jim spent the rest of the day following his meeting with Sebastian locked in his office. He had sent the necessary instructions to the people who would be in charge of securing and handling his release and now he locked himself away with the intent of working through some niggling problems.

There was a man in the United States who claimed to have some information that might interest him but Jim had a bad feeling about the man and he had learned a long time ago that his instincts were usually correct, not to mention the fact that he had had his people extensively research the man and he had a history of being less than trustworthy.

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for just a moment, he had been fighting this dull throb behind his eyes all morning and he knew what it meant, what a headache was always an indication of; boredom. He was well aware of the consequences of his boredom too, he didn't handle it well and things tended to _happen_.

In the past, when he was still in University, he would resort often to illegal substances, he found that certain kinds and in the right quantities would dull the sharp edge of his constantly racing mind. As he was finishing school he realized that he'd need to find another way to distract himself and that was when he conveniently met _him_ , Carl Powers.

Carl was just two years younger than Jim and still in University where he was a member of the swim team but he also worked part-time at Jim's favorite coffee shop in town. Jim had had occasion to talk with the younger man and he enjoyed it, it was easy banter. Carl was tall and slim, always in perfect shape as the swim season never really ended. He kept his light hair cropped very short and his blue eyes were so pale they almost seemed translucent.

One evening very near the end of the spring term and only a couple of weeks before graduation Jim was in the café very late once again, poring over stacks of notes and books as he studied vigorously for finals. He was so absorbed in his studying that he hadn't been immediately aware of the person standing at his rickety table. The clink of a ceramic mug being placed down in front of him finally got his attention.

"You're looking a bit mad over here, surrounded by your books and things, I just thought you might need some....fortification."

The tall man spoke, his voice was deeper than most people would have assumed on sight. Jim smiled back and accepted the steaming mug gratefully.

"Yes, yes. Thank you. Finals are approaching, well, you know."

Carl did know and he smiled sympathetically. From that day on they spoke regularly and grew rapidly closer. Jim was surprised at how quickly he had developed feelings for the man, he had never been in a relationship with anyone, he hadn't even known his family all that well so he was quite shocked by the way he felt about Carl. He decided that the distraction was actually nice and it kept him from finding other ways to stay balanced so he rolled with it.

When Carl kissed him for the first time it was just a few days before graduation and Jim was thoroughly shocked although he had been hoping for it he had wondered if it would ever happen. Jim was at the café past closing hours yet again and Carl was lounging in one of the squashy old arm chairs idly flipping through one of Jim's Maths book when he evidently got bored and tossed it down much to Jim's annoyance. Carl ignored the scathing look and he stood and stretched like a cat as he came to sit in one of the wooden chairs at the table next to Jim.

Jim didn't look up from his text book, his heart rate had increased and he was aggravated with himself and his weak human emotions and anatomy. He couldn't stop himself however from lifting his head sharply when he felt Carl's hand on the small of his back. When he turned his head toward Carl he drew in his breath at the proximity of the other man and he was struck once more by his distinctly delicate beauty; the full lips that were tinted perfectly pink and slightly parted to reveal his white teeth, his chin that was probably just a bit too sharp for conventional beauty but Jim found it perfect, the slightly hollow cheeks and his defined cheek bones just above.

In the time it took for Jim to notice all these things which he adored the other man had put his left hand at the nape of his neck while keeping his right firmly on Jim's lower back, he brought their faces together gently but hungrily and his mouth was sweetly trying to coax Jim from his startled state. It only took a second longer and Jim was kissing back with fervor. He turned his body in his seat and brought his ink stained hands up to cup the other's face. Jim felt as though they were the only two left in the world and he couldn't be happier, his mind had gone completely calm and placid and he realized that this was what he needed, this was what he always needed; someone to ground him.

He tangled his hands in the other's short blonde hair and kissed him greedily and hoped against irrational hope that this would never end.  It was the sweetest moment of his young life, as the kissing intensified and Carl almost wound up in Jim's lap in the cozy shop it felt like the world was made for these two young men.  Carl pulled away first, breathing heavily and smiled at Jim who looked distraught at the loss of contact.  Carl lowered his face once more and kissed him a few more times, very softly on his lips, leaving Jim wanting more, wanting _all_ of him.

With an effort Jim snapped himself from his reverie and looked all around his office, he chided himself for allowing those distant memories to haunt him so. He usually kept his past locked up tightly, he assumed it had something to do with finally meeting Sebastian face to face earlier today.

Feeling a bit rattled he slipped his hand in his trouser pocket and brought out his sleek pocket knife turning it over and over in his hand. He snapped open the blade and watched as it reflected the dull light. He pressed the surgically sharp edge to the back of his hand but he didn't apply any pressure, he sat that way for a long time then he sighed and snapped it closed, tucking it back into his pocket.

He stood up and shook himself mentally once more. The past was the past for a reason and he swore he wouldn't allow himself to fall into it again that way. He was smarter than that but, and he would only admit it in the safety of his own thoughts, Sebastian Moran had actually ruffled him today and as disconcerting as he found that, it was also just a bit pleasing. He so enjoyed being correct in his assumption that the man was worth his investment, he would certainly come in handy.

A knock on his office door brought him around again, he looked over. Andrea entered wearing a black pencil skirt with a white silk button up shirt tucked neatly in and her black stockings had a seam up the back of her shapely legs. She wore shiny black stiletto pumps and she was here, no doubt, to chide him for not getting home to prepare for the museum gala tonight. He smiled at her approach.

"Sir? You're going to be late for the gala this evening if you don't get home soon and prepare, your tuxedo is at your flat, I had it picked up from the cleaners this morning."

Jim turned back to the window thinking intently, then he turned back and flashed her his widest smile, she seemed taken aback.

"Andrea, my dear, how would you like to accompany me tonight?"

She was, not surprisingly, stunned but to her credit she recovered quickly. She smiled and nodded simply.

"I would love to sir but, you always attend these events on your own..."

Jim smiled and took a step closer picking up a lock of her silky auburn hair and letting it fall through his fingers.  He locked his mesmerizing brown eyes on hers and he knew she couldn't look away, even if she wanted to.

"Yes, dear, you're right but I just fancied...well...if you're previously engaged.."

He turned around, smirking as he did so.

"No! Of course, I'd just love to go! Thank you, for inviting me."

He didn't turn back to her, he just stood with his hands deep in his trouser pockets looking out of his window.

"Good, my car will pick you up at eight."

She knew then that she was dismissed and she left to hurry home and prepare for the gala. Jim sighed, he hated doing this but he knew what must be done and he never shied away from complicated situations.


	3. Just a Glimpse

Jim arrived home around five to get ready for the museum gala. He hated, no, he _despised_ these things. It wasn't even the superficiality of it all though that certainly annoyed him, it was the necessity of it. If you wanted people to know your name and what you did then you attended these events. These people that he would see this evening were people he saw maybe five or six times a year at various social gatherings; politicians, bankers, a few celebrities. They would all exchange idle chatter, asking about one another's lives without really caring and, he thought, that was what was wrong with the world, everyone hid behind their societal masks.

Feeling edgy and annoyed he poured himself a small amount of Scotch which he carried to the bathroom with him so he could drink it as he showered and shaved. In the spacious bathroom he stripped off his light grey Reiss suit and laid it neatly on the chair. He turned then and looked at his reflection in the mirror and he chuckled dryly, in the soft yellow lighting he felt that he looked older than his thirty five years and honestly it was no surprise if he really thought about it.

He leaned forward and inspected the light purple circles under his lower lashes and he felt certain that his eyes had taken on an unmistakably dead appearance. Well, he thought, a person's eyes are supposedly the windows to their souls so it made sense. He'd been dead inside for a very long time, since....since...well, he was trying not to think about it.

He did find it odd that he kept thinking of Carl today of all days and with that thought he impulsively picked up the pocket knife which he had laid on the counter and he looked down at his torso and the very faint, almost invisible scars that were there. He ran his hand over the biggest one on his abdomen and without meaning to he was remembering it all again.

                                                                   ~~

He and Carl had decided to label their relationship finally so they began officially dating but they didn't flaunt it or tell anyone outside of a few of Carl's closest friends, Jim didn't really have anyone who'd care anyway so it didn't matter. Their type of relationship was not conventionally accepted at that time and most people pretended it didn't exist.

Jim had mercifully made it through finals week and had been intending to skip out on the graduation ceremony. He paced his flat while Carl watched amusedly from the sofa where he lounged wearing only his pants. Jim kept running his hands through his dark hair making it stand on end, it was only ten in the morning and the ceremony didn't take place until much later but he was already getting that sick feeling in his stomach that he always felt when forced to be in large social settings.

"I'm just not going, that's all there is to it. I'll still get my diploma. It'll be fine, really, it will."

He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. Carl smiled widely and lunged up from his position to stop Jim dead in his tracks. He placed both hands on either side of the frantic man's face and held him steady, his blue eyes locking on to Jim's warm, brown eyes.

"Listen to me, love. You do not have to do anything you don't want to do."

Jim smiled then and moved in closer so that Carl was able to wrap his long, sinewy arms tightly around Jim's naked torso and he rested his head against Carl's cheek, feeling much calmer.

" _But_...."

Jim looked at him sharply. Carl smirked.

"If you _do_ go, I promise to make it very...worth your while."

Then before Jim could respond, because he had opened his mouth to retort Carl took his opportunity and pressed his mouth to Jim's, effectively silencing him. Jim struggled at first because he really did want to argue the point but then as usual Carl made him forget what he had been agitated about. Jim wrapped his arms around Carl's lean torso and leaned in to his body like he was trying to be absorbed by this man, which was really quite accurate.

Before he knew it Carl was leading him to the sofa where he pushed him down so he was lying on his back and Carl climbed on top of him, straddling him. He reached out a hand and gently smoothed Jim's disheveled hair and he smiled, his perfect lips parting to reveal his equally perfect teeth and Jim was completely captivated.

Carl lowered his head to Jim's neck and kissed him softly there causing Jim to stretch his head back farther  to allow him easier access. He kissed him softly and slowly all down his neck to his collar bone and then he looked up, his pale eyes dancing with amusement. The look on Jim's face apparently was all he needed, he then continued to kiss all the way down his torso and when he reached the faint trail of dark hair at Jim's navel he brought his hands up to slip inside the waistband of his sweats and slide them down over his hips.

Jim was practically writhing with anticipation under Carl's touch and he was almost whining with his need so when he felt Carl take him into his mouth he couldn't help the audible little gasp that escaped his lips as his breathing became shallow and hurried. His heart felt as though it would beat through his chest and nothing else mattered in the world to him except that this moment never ended.

Jim lifted his hips from the sofa as he bit his lip trying desperately to hold on for a bit longer. He brought his hand to the back of Carl's head as he felt his tongue caressing his cock and he was sure he wouldn't last. He closed his eyes tightly while arching his back and forcing his erection farther into Carl's mouth and the slight scrape of teeth along his length did nothing to discourage him. When he felt hands on his arse making him move he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Fff--uck!"

Was all he was able to shout as his body went completely limp under Carl's touch.

"Fuck."

Carl lifted his head and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth as he wiggled his way up to lie on top of Jim, tucking his head under his jaw.

"That's just a glimpse my love, so, what do you say? Are we going to the ceremony?"

Jim sighed and kissed the top of his head.

"You're positively scandalous, you know that? Yes, we're going."

                                                      ~~

That was nearly fourteen years ago now, a lifetime ago. The searing pain and subsequent warmth of the sticky blood seeping out brought him back to the present. He had no memory of consciously cutting himself but now he stood in his bathroom watching with vague disinterest as the blood ran from his abdomen, slowly snaking down his naked legs. The cut wasn't deep but the blood was quite satisfying.

He took his right hand and placed it over the wound, enjoying the feel of it. Finally he sighed and stepped into the shower. He stood for a while watching the pink tinted water run down the drain until the bleeding had all but stopped. He stood in the hot water stream recalling vividly the night of his graduation when he and Carl, after drinking far more than was probably advisable, had experimented for the first time.

 

                                                        ~~

 

Jim had always been mildly interested in knives and the pain and the pleasure that they brought. So when the two were thoroughly soused Jim, who had taken his tie and tied it around his forehead and was now sitting on top of Carl as he laid laughing and smoking in his ripped t-shirt and jeans on the sofa, brought up the subject. Carl's careless smile faltered briefly but then he sat up and gripped Jim around his middle and kissed him fiercely on his mouth.

With surprising strength Carl took Jim and flipped him so he was lying on his back on the sofa then he stood up instructing Jim to stay put. He ran to the kitchen and rifled through a few drawers until he found what he was looking for. He came back in wearing a wicked little smile and he sat atop Jim once more, holding him in place with his weight.

Jim would never forget the thrill like electricity that shot through his body at the sight of the blade in Carl's hand. Carl leaned over and kissed him on the mouth again but this time he bit his lower lip drawing blood as he made to sit back up. Jim didn't flinch and he didn't take his eyes from the pale face of his lover. Carl placed the icy blade on Jim's abdomen and applied slight pressure all the while he was watching Jim's expression. Jim drew a sharp breath and then he felt the smile spread over his face and Carl responded in kind.

The cut was quite shallow but he dragged the blade almost over the entire length of Jim's flat stomach and Jim closed his eyes serenely. The blood oozed over, congealing quickly as there wasn't really that much. Jim relished the sting and then he heard the clatter of the knife where it had fallen to the floor, forgotten as Carl leaned forward and pressed his body against Jim's kissing his face and neck. Jim opened his eyes uncertainly as he heard the other's voice in his ear, shaking and unsteady.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, I don't want to hurt you."

Jim was confused and disappointed but he turned his head so his lips met Carl's and he kissed him into silence. When Carl finally stopped shaking they just laid that way until they fell asleep.

                                                           ~~

 

He laughed once and thought about the irony of it all. They had had the world at their feet really, in those days. They could've been so much more, they had so much ahead of them.Well, at least his future was panning out nicely ahead of him and everything was falling into place and at least he had learned from his mistakes.

After finally pulling himself together and finishing his shower and dressing in his tuxedo he felt a bit better about the evening ahead. He checked his reflection in the floor length mirror, his black bow tie was straight, his dark hair was combed sleekly back from his face and he felt that he didn't look quite as haunted as he did earlier. Checking his watch he realized it was seven forty five and he still needed to pick up Andrea. He didn't mind being late though, it was destined to be a late evening anyway. He left his knife on the counter of his kitchen, he didn't plan on needing it until much later.


	4. Just a Cub

 After his interview with Jim Moriarty the guard led Sebastian, shackled and bound, back to his cell where he sat on the edge of his little bed and tried desperately to figure out what was going on here. He had always had a unique ability to read people and see past their façades that's what had helped him to survive thus far; he didn't buy any bullshit. This Moriarty was a bit of an enigma to him though, he always had been.

Of course Sebastian knew who the guy was, he read newspapers and watched telly, you'd have to be pretty fucking stupid not to know plus the guy was the manager of some of the world's top boxers while singlehandedly running one of the city's top investment firms. The guys he managed weren't just fighters either, they were prize fighters. Because of Sebastian's less than famous career in boxing he knew that managing boxers loosely translated to owning these guys, that's how the world worked. However, Sebastian had always been vexed by him or more accurately, the man whom the public saw. Today when he was told he had a visitor the very last person he expected to see come through that door was Jim Moriarty and then the offer he was making him was so far beyond Sebastian's realm of belief.

So, what could he really have that Moriarty was after because men like him didn't do things for people simply out of the goodness of their hearts, men like Moriarty didn't exactly have hearts. He found it nearly impossible to believe that Moriarty would be interested in him as a fighter. He was washed up after all. 

He laid back on the hard bed and put his hands behind his head lost in his thoughts. Sebastian wasn't the type to feel sorry for himself but if anyone had a right to, he did. His very early childhood wasn't bad he came from a good Irish-Catholic family, maybe his dad drank more than was necessary but what hard working Irishman didn't? He had six siblings of which he was the oldest, three brothers and three sisters, he did occasionally wonder where they were now and if they'd speak to him if he saw them on a street, he doubted they would. While in primary school Sebastian was unable to keep out of trouble, he was constantly starting fights with kids and he always chose the ones a few years older than him so he was rarely seen without a black eye or bruises everywhere. 

He adored his mother though and he considered her nothing short of a saint but, as only seems to happen to good people, she died before Sebastian had even finished school, he was only sixteen. Even though his upbringing was fairly normal, once his mother died and his father began drinking even more Sebastian decided to hit the road and make his own way, he had been doing so since then.

At one point he had thought he hit rock bottom, he was twenty and living near the university in a fetid little place but he didn't care much as long as he had somewhere to sleep with a roof. He met some people with whom he quickly became friends and they introduced him to the drugs business, it was a nice and easy way to make some quick money so he was on board. At first he wasn't using because he wanted to profit and it distracted him from fighting but as always happens he decided to give it a go just once and that was all it took for him to begin smoking and snorting his profit and talent away.

Still, the drugs business did well there. Students studying for exams always needed an upper. Students with insomnia due to stress needed something to mellow them, students in general needed _something_ always and their parents gave them money so they bought what they needed.

The bitterly cold winter before his twenty first birthday he was arrested for the first time on a small drugs charge and he spent a few months in lock up. It hadn't bothered him though, he felt changed, somehow, by the experience and it was far from the worst he would endure.

He must have fallen asleep on his little bed, though he didn't remember slipping off all he knew was that his dream, it had to be a dream because these events had happened so long ago that he barely recalled them during waking hours, was vivid. He thought distractedly that these streets seemed familiar, he'd been here, he'd spent a fair amount of time around the University though he never attended. He was smart though, brilliant in fact but he preferred to use his intelligence to earn a quick dollar and he didn't have time to spend in University.

When he got back on the street Sebastian decided that he'd rather make money by fighting. He stayed away from the drugs business, not as far away as he should have but far enough. A mate of his introduced him to the underground nightly fights and talked him into taking a match, just to see how it went. Sebastian had never felt more alive.

Sebastian won seven out of ten of his fights and the ones he didn't win, well, the other guys didn't fare much better than he so it would've almost been fairer to call it a tie. Many nights he would stumble his way home, eyes swollen, face bleeding, knuckles bruised and cut usually around four or five in the morning. He'd typically just pass out for a few hours and then he'd get up just as it was getting dark and do it all again.

Now as he slept in his prison cell and dreamt of his past he was recalling the first time he met her. He had just finished a fight, which he'd won, though his right eye was swollen almost completely shut and bleeding pretty badly and he was sure one of his teeth had been made loose. Still, the other guy, a giant English bloke with fists like hams went down hard in the third round when Sebastian was able to get his lean body in close and use all his force to land an uppercut to his jaw and knock him out. It had been a fierce fight though and Sebastian had been sure he would lose, the only advantage he had was his smaller size and his endurance.  He had the ability to move constantly and tire out the mountainous man.

His mate, Morris O'Connor helped him over to one of the wooden benches and was using a dingy cloth to try and wipe away some of the blood that was running down his face from his eye. Sebastian kept swatting him away.

"Mate, you've gotta let me get this cleaned or else ye'll be blind. D'you wan' that?"

Sebastian grunted in annoyance but let Morris finish what he was doing as he lit a cigarette. His first drag stung his over exerted lungs but then it became fortifying with each subsequent drag. Morris muttered something about needing some clean water and he ran away, his fiery red hair disappearing through the sweaty crowd. He hadn't been looking at anything in particular, his vision was a bit blurred so that made it easier to just zone out. Suddenly he realized that someone was standing just in front of him so he looked up expecting to see Morris but he was pleasantly surprised.

The girl standing there was probably around his age and had very short cropped auburn hair which she had gelled to stand up in all directions and her eyes were the color of jade and they seemed so alive even in this smoky, seedy atmosphere. She was very thin and wore a plaid mini skirt with black combat boots and her white t-shirt was tightly fitted with the word ' ** _Slipknot_** ' across the front in red lettering.

"My name's Andy. Pleased to meet you Sebastian."

She smiled and held out her small, black nailed hand to shake his bruised and bloodied one.

"Bastian."

He mumbled back shaking her hand, no one really called him Sebastian not since his mother died and correcting her had been a knee jerk response. She sat next to him on the bench and offered him a cigarette from her pack, he shook his head and she smiled warmly.

She didn't say anything immediately she just sat next to him watching the crowd while he watched her. He loved the way her eyes danced and sparkled like real gem stones. She reminded him of a pixie, from one of his younger sister's favorite stories. She was so petite that he worried about her in a place like this, she'd easily get knocked down and trampled if ever the place was raided.

"So, what brings a nice girl like you to a shit hole like this?"

Sebastian asked after a while and when it seemed evident that she wasn't talking.

"Me dad owns the pub upstairs.  And I'm not a nice girl."

She said it without any hint of a joke and Sebastian was immediately inclined to believe her, he knew instantly that they'd be good friends. He prided himself on his ability to read a person.

"He let's his young daughter run around down here with this lot?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"I don't know, I've never asked him. I imagine it wouldn't make any difference."

She dropped her cigarette on the floor and crushed it with her boot.

"You fought well tonight. I thought that troll woulda crushed you. You're a tad tougher than ya look."

She was smirking as she squeezed his bicep. He couldn't help smiling back. She stood up and smoothed down her skirt futilely.

"C'mon." Sebastian was confused and his face must've shown it. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm gonna get you cleaned up before your contract some fuckin' disease."

When Sebastian still didn't move she said, "I'm studying medicine at University. Now, come on."

She turned and walked away without waiting to see if he was following, which he did. She led him upstairs to the pub but through the back and then up another flight of rickety stairs to where she and her dad presumably lived. It was small and neat just two small bedrooms a kitchen and living area combined which also had a small wooden desk shoved in where she most likely did her studying. The bathroom was really not more than a broom cupboard but it had a shower a toilet and a sink.

"Sit your arse on the sofa Bastian. I'll be right out."

"Won't your dad be angry if he comes up and finds me here?"

He asked her over the sound of her rifling through the cabinets.

"He might be if he comes home, but he usually doesn't."

She came walking out carrying an assortment of supplies, anti-bacterial ointment, gauze, medical tape,tweezers and a few cotton swabs. He eyed the materials apprehensively.

"He usually finds a local bar wench at the pub each night who he gets off with. I'm mostly on me own."  She said this factually, not as though she was looking for any sympathy.  

She had sat down next to him on the sofa and tucked her feet under her so she was kneeling on the cushion next to him while she worked at his eye.

"It's jus..Jesus!" He shouted as she was using the tweezers to remove a bit of dried blood so she could clean the cut properly.

"The more you move and shout Bastian the worse it's going to be, so stay fuckin' still!"

"Sorry, that just hurt...a lot. So, it's just you and your old man?"

She nodded in response as she worked.

"Me mam left when I was just a little girl. She said that she'd not ever wanted any of this, being the wife of a bar man and working in the grimy pub every night. This old Irish town was too quiet for her, apparently I ruined her plans for living in London so when I was five she up and left. I've not heard from her since, it's better that way, I think."

Sebastian was quiet then thinking of his own broken family life, at least his mother hadn't ever said she resented her family but being murdered wasn't exactly ideal either. He was silent then for a while letting her work and wondering what it would look like when she finished.

Finally a few moments later she sat back on her heels and and said, "All finished, one last thing though."

Then she jumped off the sofa and went to the kitchen coming back a minute later with two glasses and a bottle of Jameson.  She smiled impishly as she poured each a large amount.

"It'll help with the pain...for now. Tomorrow I'd advise some aspirin."

They clinked glasses and drank the whisky. From that night on Sebastian felt sure that they would share a lifetime friendship, at the very least.

                                                          ~~~

Now he awoke on his hard little bed in his prison cell and stared at the dank ceiling. Where had that come from? Why had he dreamt of Andy today? It had been at least six years since he last saw her; he wasn't going to allow himself to think of that. It was still too raw.

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and slipped his feet into his ugly prison issue slippers. He sat there for a moment and put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes so vigorously that he made tiny white stars erupt behind his lids. It had to be because of Moriarty, was it the Irish accent? He hadn't heard a true accent like that probably since he last spoke with Andy when she told him she was moving to London with a guy.

Grunting he stood up and stretched his arms above his head. He was anxious and keyed up and he couldn't allow himself to continue thinking about her but it seemed that that was the order of the day because he just couldn't shake her image from his mind no matter how hard he tried. He picked up a book and tried reading it, after reading the same sentence five times consecutively he decided to abandon that idea. He dropped down and did a few push ups but when he began remembering the way Andy used make fun of him when he'd show off and do push-ups with one hand and one leg he gave that up too.

He thought to himself that he hadn't realized how much she influenced almost every aspect of his life and he had never admitted it and he probably never would but he missed her. Her voice came floating back to him now as he sat here trying vainly to forget her. One of her closest friends had come by her place above the pub to visit and he happened to be there preparing for a fight that evening.

                                                               ~~~

Sebastian had been lounging on the sofa smoking a cigarette and flicking absently through the channels not finding anything he felt particularly captivated by. This was his usual routine when he planned to fight, smoke half a pack of cigarettes and lounge around at Andy's.

He was lucky enough to be one of those people who were naturally athletic and required almost no training but always managed to stay in shape. At twenty-one he was tall and lanky but his muscles were beginning to take on more definition, Sebastian couldn't care less. He just wanted to make money and no matter how hard Andy tried she couldn't convince him to attend University.

Andy was at her small desk studying for finals when a soft knock came on the the door followed by her best friend from childhood, Carl. He came in and waved vaguely to Sebastian, he was always a bit standoffish toward him but Sebastian didn't care, he assumed that most people thought he and Andy were a couple but nothing could be farther from the truth, they were simply really good friends.

She looked up from her enormous book and smiled at Carl.

"Hey! What's going on, you sounded a bit urgent on the phone before. Everything alright?"

She asked as Carl came and sat at the other end of the sofa, closer to her desk.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's perfect!! I, uh- thought.... I thought you were alone?"

She wrinkled her tiny nose at him and shook her head.

"I never said that Carl. What'd you wanna talk about though, I'm kinda busy, finals and all..."

She trailed off hoping that he would hurry up and talk so she could go back to her books.

"Oh, yeah, right. Well...I've met someone!! And it seems really great, so far. I hate to jinx these things though."

She smiled widely as she slapped him excitedly on his arm where he had it on the sofa.

"Carl! That's great! Who is it? Do I know him?"

He shook his head but he was blushing crimson right up to he roots of his blonde hair and even Sebastian couldn't help smiling. Standing up he decided that he would leave them to talk in private.

"Nice seeing you Carl, and good luck. Andy I'm going down, will you be down later?"

"Oh! Bastian don't leave!"

He smiled and responded, "No, it's getting late, Morris will be going mental if I don't go down. Just come by later if you can."

Then he left the two alone planning to ask Andy later for more details, he now recalled that he never did. They just began seeing less and less of Carl for quite a few months and no one thought much of it. Sebastian unfortunately reconnected with him a year or so later something he would spend the rest of his life regretting.


	5. A Slight Shift

Over the following days Sebastian's schedule remained exactly the same as always, monotonous as prison life was. On Thursday afternoon however the guard came to his cell with orders that he had a visitor.

"Moran!"

The man barked with agitation. Probably annoyed that he had to waddle his fat arse all the way to Sebastian's cell. Sebastian looked up from his book with an amused look.

"Get up, c'mon you've got a meetin'"

Sebastian laid his book aside then stood and allowed the two younger guards to cuff his hands in front of him to lead him to his 'meeting'. He was only vaguely interested though, since the whole Moriarty thing he'd been lost in his thoughts and hadn't got much sleep so he wasn't as focused as usual. As they walked down the corridor he found himself thinking forcibly of the second time he was arrested.

                                                            ~~~

He had been at the pub the night before and had fought in two fights which earned him a fair amount, at least enough to pay his rent.  Now it was roughly around mid day and he was out cold so the pounding on his door didn't wake him up at first. After a few minutes of it though he sat bolt upright and jumped out of bed to answer it wearing only his pants.

When he opened the door and saw Andy standing there it took him a few moments to process. He ran a hand over his scruffy face and then she pushed past him and into the room.

"Jesus Christ, Andy. What the _fuck_ happened?"

She went and sat on the old ugly sofa and pulled her feet up under her. He looked around the room and finally locating his ripped jeans from the previous evening he pulled them on and came to sit next to her.

"It's nothing Bastian. I just needed to get away. You don't mind me coming do you? I just... I didn't know where to go."

He put his arm out and she curled up to his side. He was shaking with fury and barely containing himself. Andy had a black eye and split lip along with her multiple bruises up and down each arm. She had been seeing this guy, Colin for a few months now and Sebastian hated the prick. This was the first time that he had solid proof however that he had laid a hand on her and Sebastian now knew how he'd be spending his day.

"Andy, tell me what happened please?"

She was quiet for a while and then she sat up wrapping her arms around her skinny knees and looking sadly at Sebastian. He knew his anger was showing on his face but he was trying desperately to keep it hidden.

"We were out at the pub last night and had a few pints. Everything was fine Bastian _really_ , it was. We were having a nice time, a few of his mates met up with us and he had a few more pints. We were at the final pub before calling it a night and he'd gone to the toilet and was gone for a while so when I went looking for him-"

She turned away from Sebastian's gaze at this point and he knew she was trying to hide her tears and so he reached over and easily pulled her close so she was buried in his chest and he held her tightly. Finally after a few moments she took a deep breath and carried on but she didn't look at Sebastian.

"He was snogging Caroline against the wall of the pub just outside the toilets." She laughed once, dryly. "I guess it was a fitting atmosphere. Well when I shouted and got their attention he got angry and...well, he _was_ pissed."

Sebastian didn't trust himself to speak so he stayed quiet and pulled her even closer. They sat that way for some time until he realized that she she was soundly sleeping with her fiery head against his chest. He guessed she hadn't slept much the previous night and she was probably exhausted.  He ran a hand protectively over her hair and made up his mind.

He held her for about a quarter of an hour longer and then he picked her up and carried her to his bed where he tucked her in. After checking to be sure she was still soundly sleeping he grabbed a wrinkled T-shirt from the floor and threw it carelessly on. He grabbed his sunglasses and bolted from the flat.

                                                               ~~~

The guard roughly shoved him into the interview room and told him to have a seat. He saw a well dressed and groomed man sitting at the small table wearing a three piece suit and he had a thick file folder in front of him. He smiled none too warmly at Sebastian as he sat. He leaned forward and held his manicured hand out to shake.

"Mr. Moran, my name is Davion Mack. Mr. Moriarty has requested that I come and see you to discuss a few _things_."

Sebastian shook the man's hand and sat at the table opposite him. He didn't say anything in response instead he simply observed the man.

"Mr. Moriarty has been in contact with the parole board and as it turns out there was some... _significant_...evidence which seems to have been overlooked regarding your case. You will most probably be released tomorrow pending some paperwork. Please keep in mind that it may be possible that you will have to go through another trial. As for now, just do us all a favor and stay in the country and be available if you're needed, yeah?"

Sebastian nodded.

"This is not typical procedure. You'll forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical."

The man smiled widely now showing all his bright white veneers. He leaned his arms on the table and interlocked his fingers, Sebastian noticed several gold rings adorning those fingers.

"Mr. Moran, please understand something, my client Mr. Moriarty is accustomed to getting what he wants and I haven't yet failed him. Rest assured that I don't plan on starting here and now. I will be in touch, I may need to see you at my office some time in the next few weeks." He paused here considering his next words carefully. "I hear that you were a decent fighter once, maybe you will be again?"

Then he pushed away from the table and stood up, Sebastian did the same and they shook once again. The guard then led Sebastian back to his dingy cell without a word until they reached it.

"I don't know what's going on Moran but I can tell you one thing, you're not gettin' out of here that easy. " Then he grinned horribly, showing all of his ugly yellow teeth. Sebastian just smirked back.

"Well, I'll get out of here before you will."

The guard shoved him roughly in his back toward the cell door. Once Sebastian was inside and the guard had left he sat on the edge of his bed again wondering if it was really possible that he'd get out of there tomorrow. He still doubted it. Looking all around the tiny square of space he was shocked to realize that over the past six months he'd actually begun to feel at home. This had been the longest he'd spent sleeping in the same place so it was natural for him to get slightly attached even if it was a prison cell. Still, if he actually was getting out tomorrow, he was looking forward to it.

As he'd done so many times and most recently with increasing frequency, he thought of Andy again. From such a young age there'd only been one person to inspire loyalty in him and that was Andy. So it was not surprising when he'd seen what Colin did to her that he went and hunted him down.

                                                          ~~~

He wasn't difficult to locate, Sebastian caught him on his way to work just outside of his house. He didn't remember much but that's how it was even when he fought, he always seemed to be outside of himself. The buzzing in his ears would heighten to a point that all other noise was blocked out and he saw nothing but his opponent. So now when he saw Colin walking out of his house dressed in his nice suit and carrying his briefcase he didn't even give him a chance to reach his car.

Sebastian went up to him and Colin's face vaguely registered shock before Sebastian's fist connected solidly with his jaw which sent him staggering and then to his knees but Sebastian gave him no time to collect himself. He was on him again like a tiger tearing apart an antelope. He hit him three and four more times in the face until blood was running freely from his nose and all Colin could do was try desperately to protect his face and head.

When Sebastian suddenly felt several pairs of hands on him simultaneously he was brought crashing painfully back to reality as he was forced violently to the hard ground and had his hands cuffed achingly behind his back. He spent nearly an entire year locked up for that offense which wasn't terrible considering it could've been much longer. Andy convinced Colin not to press charges and thankfully they'd broken up by the time Sebastian was paroled.

In hindsight he realized that he still regretted his decision to join the army when he got out even though it afforded him the opportunity to become a talented sharpshooter. He'd only spent three years in the army until he was discharged home after a bullet wound to his upper thigh of his left leg. The one thing he _was_ thankful for was the army getting him away when he most needed it, he felt certain that if he hadn't left town he would be dead today most probably from a drug over dose.

Unfortunately life has it's very own plans and no matter what anyone says or does it's quite difficult to change destiny. He could still remember Andy's face as she saw him off the day his unit was being mobilized.

Their relationship had been altered by the incident with Colin but neither of them really spoke about it, Sebastian didn't really _do_ feelings and discussions and she just never pushed the matter. Sometimes events can irrevocably change relationships regardless of the reasons and so it was for them.

He smiled to himself now though as he recalled that she was wearing nicely tailored black slacks with a button up shirt and matching black blazer, she was about to head to her first real job. She had failed her medical exams twice and gave up on her dream of being a doctor despite Sebastian's vehement protests. She was now about to go for her first day as a secretary to an insurance agent. Sebastian was disappointed but after arguing almost non-stop for the past few weeks about it he finally just gave up plus, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek and kiss him as she put her arms tightly around his neck. He hugged her around her waist just as tightly and hoped like hell that he'd get this chance again.

"You take care, ya hear me Sebastian Moran? I'm not done with ya yet and I hope you know that even death won't stop me from kickin' your arse."

She smiled crookedly as she said it but he could hear her voice quiver near the end so he smiled his widest, most cocky grin he could muster.

"You really think some fuckin guy in a desert could kill me? I'm disappointed in you Andy, I thought you knew me better. I'm indestructible, don't forget that, you hear? I'll be back soon, promise. Just take care of yourself and look after Morris. That git won't survive without some help."

"Eh, I'll see what I can do. Listen I've gotta go now, I can't be late on me- _my_ first day."

She leaned up again and hugged him so tightly this time that Sebastian wasn't sure she'd let go. She whispered in his ear as she turned her face to his.

"I love you you fuckin idiot. Be safe."

Then she kissed him and let go, she turned around and practically ran. He assumed that she'd been crying and didn't want him to see. He appreciated that. He wished now that he'd come back to the same town as the one he'd left, he wished that he'd come back to the same girl, the same mates. He wished that he'd come back the same man. He now knew that some things are simply impossible.


	6. Electricity

Jim's car picked Andrea up just a few minutes after eight and he slid smoothly from the back while his driver held the door ajar. He smoothed his jacket and adjusted his tie as he walked up the garden path to ring the bell. As she came to the door he smiled brilliantly at her and was pleased to see her blush in response.

She was wearing a stunning black floor length gown which fanned slightly at the bottom and had a dangerously low cut back. The whole thing shimmered depending upon the lighting and the black onyx stones at her ears and neck were the perfect compliment. Her silky auburn hair was pulled back sleekly in a low bun resting at the nape of her neck while just a few tendrils were loose about her face.

As she emerged Jim held his hand out and took her's to bring to his lips. He brushed his lips ever so gently across her knuckles and she blushed again.

"Mr. Moriar-"

He cut her off, "Please Andrea, at least for the evening do me the honor of calling me Jim?" She smiled again and started uncertainly.

"Ye-yes, uh, Jim. Thank you again for inviting me this evening."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you!"

He then held his left arm out for her and she put one small hand in the crook of his elbow. When they reached the car his driver held the door for Andrea and once she was in he went to the opposite side to hold the door for Jim.

The first hour of the gala was torturous as these things always were but Jim was at least amused by the many inquiring looks they received because, as she had reminded him earlier in the day, he typically attended these soirees alone. He took great pleasure in causing a stir or a reason for gossip, life could be intolerably dull at times so it was nice to create distractions no matter how trivial.

Once the cocktail hour was through and all the perfunctory greetings done with they were all kindly asked to assume their seats in order for dinner to be served. Jim and Andrea were seated with two members of parliament and their spouses along with a currently rising London stage actor and her girlfriend. In short, there wasn't anyone of particular interest to Jim and so he engaged Andrea in discussion the entire time.

Just as the waiter was refilling their champagne flutes he leaned over and took Andrea's hand in his and gazed intently at her. He registered her wary look and he felt a thrill, ever the predator.

"Are you having a nice evening my dear? Is the champagne satisfactory? I never drink the stuff myself outside of these events."

"Oh! Yes, everything is really quite lovely...I can't believe I'm here, with these people. It's still a bit of a shock for me!"

He smiled in an understanding way while raising his eyebrows. He leaned forward so that his mouth was right at her ear.

"I'll let you in on a little secret though darling. They're all just ordinary people, like you and I. No reason to revere them I'm afraid."

He sat back wearing a mock frown and she looked confused but quickly recovered. The rest of the evening passed in much the same manner, more champagne, quite a lot of fake smiling, idle gossip. When the clock finally struck eleven and all the self promoting speeches had been made Jim decided that it would be safe for them to make their escape. He grabbed Andrea's hand and tugged her gently toward the exit.

As they stepped outside and the crisp autumn air hit them he saw her shiver involuntarily so he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders; she smiled in thanks. As they descended the stairs heading for the idling car he leaned in close to speak in a soft tone.

"The night is still young my dear. What do you say we have a night cap before I take you home? There's a very nice little place just around the corner from here."

She thought for a moment then replied, "Oh, alright then. Just one, I _do_ have work tomorrow!" She teased.

When they were seated at a cozy table in the little pub and Jim had ordered two pints of ale he fixed her with his inscrutable gaze. Andrea had begun working for him about four years ago. She had moved to London roughly six years ago and had had several failed jobs since then, mostly secretarial work.

She was from some small Irish town and had apparently moved to the city with a boyfriend, they were no longer together. Jim happened to know exactly who Andrea was however, having spent a few years in her hometown; so when he came across her résumé he knew that he simply must have her. He hired her immediately.

It took her a few weeks to realize exactly who Jim Moriarty was, his was a name she hadn't heard in many years. Now as they sat in the little pub and he took one of her hands in his she felt a mixture of fear and longing. He liked being in her presence, as much as he was capable of enjoying anyone's presence. Perhaps it was because she reminded him, made him think of the one person he tried every day to forget.

"You miss him, don't you?"

She asked as though she had read his mind, the alcohol obviously lowered his defenses but she was right. She must've seen the initial anger flare up in his eyes because she immediately became apologetic.

"No, don't apologize. Of course you're right. You're quite... _intuitive_."

She smiled in relief. "It's alright, I miss him too. I miss a lot of people actually."

Her eyes became distant and he felt sure he knew of whom she was thinking.  She sat back and took a big gulp from her pint and then said, "I'm so sorry about that. How dull of me, bringing up the painful past like that."

He sipped his ale thoughtfully for a minute then setting his glass down he said, "What do you think he'd be like today?"

She thought for a moment before answering.

"I think he'd be as lovely as always but I fear he never would've been very successful. That was a big part of his problem, he always wanted others to take care of him."

Jim nodded, "Yes, yes. I quite agree. He _was_ very lovely though and so sweet."

As he was talking he took her right arm and turned it over so that it was palm up. With his free left hand he traced the outline of her veins where they ran the length of her limb. He marveled again at the frailty of human life. It was so erotic to know that one man could hold power over life and death of another man with so little effort. One man could subjugate whole nations and choose who gets to live and who must die.

He knew that he was capable of those things, he'd always known that. The public saw him as one person, the person he wanted them to see while in private he was someone else entirely. People knew him as the founder of Moriarty Investments. His hobby, managing fighters, was just another facet of who he was. No one ever really saw the devil beneath, perhaps it was simply that no one _wanted_ to.

He felt a thrill as he gently caressed her arm and it wasn't until she winced a bit that he realized he had been holding on a tad tighter than was really needed. He let her go and she pulled her arm back to rub the spot. They chatted a bit more superficially after that and finished their drinks, Jim was suddenly feeling tired and he explained that he needed to go home so the two left.

His car dropped her off first, Jim didn't even get out to walk her to the door claiming to have a headache and that he needed to get home quickly. She seemed a little disgruntled but she had no way of knowing that he'd just done her a favor.

Once he was within his own flat and he undid his tie and removed his coat he walked to the window; not having turned on any lights he had a magnificent view of the city. The city teeming with life, not as much at this late hour but still quite a few people. He was sure that a lot of those little people down there were degenerates, like Carl had been in the end.  All doing unspeakable deeds to obtain their fix, not caring what it did to their families and friends.   He supposed that no one ever began by wanting to get hooked on drugs but it just kind of happens. He found himself remembering again.

                                                                ~~~

Jim had come in very late expecting to find Carl at home, he was mistaken. As he came in he threw his jacket on the chair near the door and saw a note tacked to the wall there.

**_~just gone out for a bit. Don't worry. Be home soon. Love, C.~_ **

He was annoyed because he'd been busy all day working at the small firm and then he'd gone to the fight which he'd left early, despite having big money on one of the upcoming fighters, just to get home early one evening to spend with Carl. He sighed and went to make himself some food before going to bed. He flicked idly through the channels on the telly and he realized that he wasn't even mildly tired.

Many hours later he was still in that same spot waiting for Carl to stumble through the door. When he finally did Jim was furious. He came clumsily in and he stopped in the doorway when he saw Jim sitting on the sofa. He leaned against the frame to steady himself. His t-shirt was wrinkled and ripped in several places as were his dark jeans. His blonde hair was standing on end and his pale blue eyes were glassy and unfocused.

"Jim. What're you doing there? Why aren't you in bed?"

Jim stood up calmly and walked over to where Carl stood. He took his right arm forcefully in his hand and held him tightly looking at the marks in the crook of his elbow.

"How many cocks did you have to suck tonight just to get your fix?" Jim spat.

Carl flinched but stood his ground as he tried uselessly to get his arm back.

"Get the fuck off me."  He mumbled thickly.

He finally succeeded in yanking his arm free and he staggered over to the sofa where he half sat/half fell. Jim looked at him in disgust. This had been going on for months now and no matter what Jim said or did he couldn't get him to clean up. It wasn't even that he objected to the drugs, hell he used recreationally to calm his mind on occasion but he could control it, Carl couldn't.

The thing that bothered Jim the most though was the sleeping around and whoring himself out just to get his next fix. Jim had plans, grand ambitions, for his future and he now saw that Carl wasn't a part of that future.

Over the past two years Jim had become more and more calculated, every person was a puzzle piece to him and every person served a purpose to him; if a person happened to outlive their usefulness he realized he wasn't afraid of doing what needed to be done. He now realized that Carl had outlived his usefulness.

He closed his eyes momentarily and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Taking a deep breath he walked back to the sofa where Carl sat watching him warily. He put one knee on the sofa next to Carl's leg while keeping his other on the ground but between Carl's open legs so his knee was resting on the edge of the cushion just near his crotch. Carl swallowed nervously.

Jim knew at that moment that he would never tire of this; inspiring such fear in others. He brought his hands up and cupped Carl's face to lift it so they were making eye contact, he found that very important. He smiled at him and he knew how it must look, a bit sad. Maybe deep down he really did feel sad but he had no time to think about it, not now as aroused as he was by what he knew would happen.

"What happened to us Carl, my love? I thought we had it all figured out."

Carl tried to move his head to turn his face away but he was stuck in Jim's terrible grip. He settled for turning his glassy eyes to the floor not wanting to see that wickedly cold look in those warm brown eyes.

" _You_ happened to us Jim. You fucked us."

Carl's voice was flat as he said this, it held no real conviction.

"Well, perhaps you're right but I've only ever done what needed doing. I can't help it if I've just wanted a bit more, I happen to possess what is necessary to take what I need. I'm not a barbarian Carl."

Carl raised his eyes to Jim's at that.

"Could've fooled me." He responded.

Jim smiled in an understanding way. "No matter what happens or what has already happened I find you to be beautiful, weak to a fault, but beautiful."

He leaned down and kissed Carl so fiercely then that it would be a miracle if he didn't leave bruises on his perfect lips. He felt Carl responding and wrapping his arms around Jim's neck and Jim felt the familiar electric thrill run through his body.

                                                          ~~~

In his posh London apartment with his eyes closed in the dark he could almost imagine that he felt Carl's lips on his. He unconsciously brought a hand to his lips and felt disappointment like he hadn't felt in so very long. He sighed then opened his eyes. He turned from the window and headed for his bedroom and hopefully sleep but not without a bit of help.


	7. Lightning Strikes

His mind had obviously been stimulated by Andrea talking about Carl and then his dark recollections when he came home because that night he dreamt vividly of him and what happened following that kiss. He could remember the exact feel of his skin as he grabbed at Carl's t-shirt to pull it over his head and he remembered exactly the way the early dawn light played in his ruffled blonde hair making some strands soft and golden while others still looked almost white.

                                                    ~~~

He saw himself as if he was standing in that room all those years ago as he paused to remember the details. The small, slightly upturned nose, the angular chin and those perfectly shaped lips that were naturally tinted pink. He kissed him ever so softly on those lips, his favorite part of the man.

Carl's typically pale almost translucent eyes were now so dark with desire and he reached for the back of Jim's neck to continue kissing him feverishly.  His fingers left angry red marks in their wake.

After pulling his shirt off Jim sat back and looked at the exceptionally skinny body of Carl. His ribs were visible and his chest seemed sunken and it was then that he realized he was actually doing the man a favor. He moved his hands to the button on his jeans and undid them kissing Carl all the while.

Carl kept trying desperately to tear at Jim's shirt and trousers wanting to get rid of them but Jim was stronger and held him in place. When he was in nothing but his pants Jim finally sat back and slowly and methodically undid his own shirt; Carl kept trying to do it for him but Jim wouldn't allow it. He was in total control here and he breathed in the air imagining that he could taste the fear and the lust and the power.

When he finally removed his shirt he leaned forward and kissed the man on his mouth again. Carl was practically panting and clawing at Jim's back trying to bring him even closer as he wriggled his skinny body as close to Jim's as was possible. Jim now reached down and slid his hand inside Carl's pants to grab his cock and stroke his hand up and down the length a few times eliciting a whimper from the man.  Jim however wasn't about to give in that easily even though Carl was begging him.

"Jim, ple-please. I can barely take it much longer.  Please!"

Jim removed his hand causing Carl to lift his hips slightly and to groan at the loss. Jim sat back now and stood so he could remove his trousers. Once he was wearing only his pants he grabbed Carl by his waist and coaxed him to move so he was lying on his back on the sofa and Jim climbed on top of him. He began kissing his ear and then down his neck all the while holding him firmly in place with his hands pinned above his head. Carl continued to wriggle and moan trying to get Jim to just fuck him already. Jim looked up at him and smiled wryly.

"Not just yet my _love_ , you'll have to be patient just a bit longer."

Carl whined and continued struggling. Jim now moved lower and licked each of his ribs as he went and then at his hip bones he licked and kissed from the right to the left. He slipped his hands in side the waist band of Carl's pants and slid them down and worked them off then he sat back and did the same with his own.

He then put his mouth right at Carl's ear and whispered, " _I...own...you_."

Carl was breathing heavily.

"Yes, yes you do! Don't make me wait any longer please, I'm begging. I can't take it!  Fuck me already, please."

His words were a huff as he was almost completely breathless. Jim finally decided that enough was enough and he used his one hand to finger at his entrance. Carl gasped with a mixture of pain and satisfaction as Jim added another finger and then another. Finally after just a moment more he moved Carl's legs so they were around his waist and he slowly slid his cock in where his fingers had been having just used a small amount of lubricant on himself, he didn't want it to be too painless.

Carl was practically in tears from the anticipation and then finally receiving what he'd been begging for. Jim put both hands on Carl's waist and held him steady as he fucked him; slowly at first and then with increasing speed as he became more and more excited. The feeling of the tightness around his cock was thrilling as always and he wanted to fuck Carl into complete submission until the only thing the other man was capable of doing was gasping his name and begging him for more.

For a while the only sound was the sound of their flesh coming together sharply and Carl's intermittent whines until finally Jim felt Carl tighten around him and he watched as he came all over his own stomach, the sticky white substance going everywhere. Almost simultaneously Jim felt that tightening in his lower abdomen as he too came and he was incapable of moving even an inch as he listened as Carl gasped his name breathlessly.

"Fu-Jim. Fuc-Jim...Jim."

Having finished he pulled out and stood up throwing Carl's t-shirt to him he turned away and said, "Clean yourself up."

He'd never forget the hurt look on Carl's face. When they were both fairly composed they went into the bedroom together. Jim then went to the adjoining bathroom to brush his teeth methodically making sure not to miss a single one. When he walked into the bedroom he found Carl sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to him, completely naked and tying the tourniquet above his elbow. Jim walked over and placed his hand over Carl's.

"Here, let me help you with that love."

Carl looked a bit unsure but it quickly passed and he allowed Jim to tie the rubber band. He also allowed Jim to take hold of the syringe and to add the drug to it. Jim laughed internally at the stupidity of a junkie, even when he sensed danger he chose to ignore it in favor of achieving his next high.

Jim lovingly caressed the now bulging arteries just below the pale ivory skin and he was aroused once more. He took a deep breath and slid the needle into the most prominent vein and pressed slowly down on the plunger, distributing the narcotic. After a few moments Carl laid back on the bed and Jim came to lie beside him caressing his cheek.

He kissed him very gently on his lips and noticed how cold they were. He began noticing the look in his blue eyes, he knew. He was aware of what happened, how he'd been betrayed and Jim leaned over him smiling knowingly. He relished the pure cold fear in those eyes he had once loved.

"You know Carl, I once thought of you as my salvation and perhaps that's still true but if I allow you to continue you may well be my destruction one day. I just can't let that happen."

He ran a hand lovingly down his cheek as he spoke. Carl tried to sit up but found he couldn't, his muscles wouldn't respond.

"Why? Jim, _**WHY**_?! I lov-"

Jim smoothed his blonde hair as he gazed down at the man now struggling to draw breath and looking terrified.

"You don't love me, you love the _idea_ of me my dear. There was a time when it was possible that you felt that way but not any longer. I've really always been a means to an end for you and be honest, how did you _really_ think this would end?"

He paused and shifted Carl's weight so that he was holding the man's convulsing body on his lap. "Somewhere deep inside this pretty little head of yours you always knew that this would end tragically, didn't you my love?"

Carl couldn't speak any longer his body was shaking violently and Jim just held him as he began to froth from his mouth. His body wanted to vomit to dispel the poison but it wasn't capable as his muscles had become paralyzed. It was all over in just a few brief minutes, the man whom Jim once truly adored was dead in his arms, his glassy eyes frozen with a look of pure terror, never to see anything again.

He was just a boy really, only twenty two but this is what happened to junkies. They were all very much like a thunderstorm, all electricity and blowing wind but always for such a brief amount of time, eventually blowing themselves out.  How utterly tragic.

                                                            ~~~

He sat up in bed and saw that it was still dark out so he laid back, breathing heavily. That had been so excruciatingly vivid that it felt as though it just happened and hadn't been twelve years ago.

He still didn't regret his actions, regret was for lesser men but he did occasionally wish that Carl had been stronger. If he'd had more of a backbone he wouldn't have needed to die, well, there was nothing for it now. He sat in the dark for a long time after that and played absently with his pocket knife. The cold metal always reassured him and made him feel just a bit calmer.

He remembered with amusement how he held Carl's limp body for about fifteen minutes while he cried and then he phoned for an ambulance. They pronounced Carl dead at the scene and they roped the entire place off so Jim was taken to the station for questioning, the entire time he was in hysterics. When the officials decided that he was in no fit state for questioning they sent him to hospital for treatment to calm his frayed nerves.

He now recalled that he'd run in to Andrea there but they had barely spoken as both were so terribly distraught. The following days were a flurry of activity between the inquest and the memorial service. It was well attended and many people expressed their deepest sympathies to Jim and wondered aloud how he would ever find the strength to carry on, he assured them that he would because Carl would want him to.

Eventually Carl's death was ruled accidental by over dose. It was shortly after that that Jim decided to make his way in London, he left the town never looking back. If truth be told, he hadn't really thought of those ancient events for so long after leaving that it almost felt as though they had happened to someone else and, he guessed, they kind of had. He wasn't the same man he once was, he was far better and so much more refined than in those days. Still, he never wanted to forget how he began, not really.


	8. From Captivity

On Friday morning Sebastian was awoken bright and early by an enormously disgruntled guard shouting at him to get up because he didn't have all day to waste on his sorry arse. Sebastian was groggy having only slept about two hours the night before; his brain just wouldn't quiet and allow him rest. The guard grumpily informed him that he'd have a brief meeting with the parole board and then most likely be sent on his way. He looked miserable at the prospect of Sebastian being set free. Sebastian grinned annoyingly.

He was right though, the interview was really quite stupid and an enormous waste of time but he supposed that they had to make it look as though some rules were being followed. He was given his things that he had been brought in with, his dark, snugly fitting jeans a t-shirt that had some unknown band name splashed across the front and hugged his biceps pleasantly. His trainers that had seen better days and his mobile, sunglasses and wallet which currently held less than £10. He sighed as he looked at his meager things.

He walked out of the gates and into the weak sunlight, he lit a cigarette as he made his way toward the electric fence and gates that would let him free upon the world once more. He smirked at the thought. Just as he reached the road a sleek black sedan rolled to a stop just in front of him and a man dressed impeccably in a dark three piece suit stepped out of the front passenger side.

"Mr. Moran? Please get in."

Sebastian thought, _'what the fuck?'_ And he slid into the fine leather interior. He didn't bother asking where they were headed he felt that he was able to deduce their destination even if he didn't know the precise location. As the car sped in the direction of central London Sebastian leaned his head back and closed his eyes with a smile. He always enjoyed this, the feeling of being released back in to the wild. That's what this was in essence even though he had a small kernel of doubt in his mind he was still really pleased to be out of that hell hole of a prison.

Prison, just like the military, had ways of changing people. Sebastian mused about how much his time in the military had really changed him, how much it had taught him about himself. He'd seen and done things he never would have dreamt of doing. He was a bit saddened by the thought and he realized just how much he missed it, the thrill of war and the uncertainty of everything. He had truly lived those days as though any one of them could've been his last. Sometimes he wished he had died there.

He marveled at the exceptionally smooth ride of the car it was almost easy to forget that he was even traveling when his eyes were closed. Unbidden the memory of his time in the army came floating back to him. He saw himself again as a pup when he was still so damn naive and trusting.

                                                           ~~~

While in training he'd met a guy about his age, Dennis Murphy, a kid who was fairly good in hand to hand combat just like him and it turned out that a few of the others also enjoyed mixed martial arts and boxing. So it was no surprise that his unit organized a little boxing club to pass their spare hours.

Dennis was the type of guy who always seemed to have a chip on his shoulder and felt he needed to prove himself. Sebastian was sure he was a good kid but he just had a bad attitude. Perhaps it was his slighter size, maybe the freckles on his face that he probably was picked on about at some point in his life; whatever the reason he had a knack for pissing people off. He and Sebastian however became fast friends and Sebastian actually admired his freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks, they became darker after spending time in the Afghan desert. His dark, raven colored hair was cropped very short as was everyone else's and his light blue eyes told blatantly of his Irish descent.

His regiment were training to be sharp shooters and Sebastian loved it. He still remembered his thrill as he held the sniper rifle for the first time. They were learning to assemble the guns and he was in complete awe. He often found himself thinking of his rifle as a lover's body; something to be handled with care but also requiring a firm hand. If you didn't respect your weapon as with lovers they would betray you every time.

Some of the men he trained with had doubts and fears about what they were being asked to do, Sebastian never did. It was war, people died, it was that simple and he'd rather do the killing than get killed.

He remembered finding Dennis one night outside of their barracks and he was flipping out. Having a panic attack of some sort. They had had their first day of shooting and while the targets didn't really resemble a human it must've just hit him that he would soon be asked to take a human life. The man was shaking like a leaf standing with his hands on his knees and his back against the wall when Sebastian found him.

"Murph? You out here?" Sebastian lit a smoke as he went.

"I'm here. I gotta get outta here, mate. I'm just- I'm not made for this."

Sebastian went over to where he was and leaned against the wall next to him. Dennis turned to look at him.

"I'm not a killer. I can't do this Bastian. I don' wanna."

Sebastian put a hand on the man's back as he looked at him with pity.

"It's not easy mate. I don't want to have to kill but you know, it's kill or get killed once we're out there. Do what you've gotta do but just understand that I've got your back. No matter what happens."

Dennis didn't speak for a minute and finally he straightened up and looked frankly at Sebastian.

"How d'you do it? Brush everything off? Have ya ever killed a man Bas?"

Sebastian shook his head slowly.

"Then how d'you know it'll be that easy or the right thing to do?"

Sebastian shrugged and dropped his finished fag to the ground where he crushed it with the toe of his boot.

"I _don't_ know. I just follow orders but I'll tell you one thing for certain. I refuse to die in some God forsaken fuckin' desert, so," He shrugged again, "I'll kill any fucker that tries to get me first, for me it's that simple."

Dennis was gazing at him incredulously as though he couldn't quite believe his ears. Sebastian pushed away from the wall and went to stand in front of the shaken man. He put his hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly, reassuringly.

"You'll get through this, _we'll_ get through it together. I'll be by your side. Don't worry."

Dennis smiled slowly, weakly as he nodded while never taking his eyes from Sebastian's. He licked his dry lips once and then before Sebastian could do or say anything else he was being snogged by one of his best mates. He knew he should have reacted in some way, he should've pulled away or he should've punched him in his fucking face but ultimately he did none of these things. He just stood there in complete shock at first then he brought his hands up to the other man's face and kissed him back.

A moment later he pulled away and, still holding the other's face between his palms he said, "You ever fuckin' pull a stunt like that again you won't have to worry about the enemy killin you. You got that mate?"

Dennis looked shocked at his own daring but to his credit he didn't shy away.

                                                        ~~~

Sebastian smiled to himself now at that obscure memory. That had only been the beginning of his own self awareness. That Afghan desert held more secrets than he was comfortable thinking about now. It wasn't an easy three years isolated like they were; a handful of guys homesick and scared ninety per cent of the time.

The trip to London took far less time than he remembered. The sleek sedan pulled to a stop at the curb in the shadow of a skyscraper made almost entirely of glass. Sebastian lowered his shades to get a better look and was not shocked to see that they had arrived at Moriarty Investments. He smiled wryly as he stepped out.

He stood on the pavement awaiting instructions as he cracked his neck and back. The suit came up to him talking rapidly into an ear piece.

"Mr. Moran, follow me please."

He led the way into the building where a pretty dark haired receptionist greeted them with a posh London accent and a dazzling smile. Sebastian winked at her and she blushed. They took the lift all the way to the very top, it was a dull and uneventful ride. The suit wasn't one for talking but Sebastian didn't mind because he was tired. When the lift doors opened they stepped into a sleek hallway made entirely of black marble and the walls were adorned with a few abstract prints presumably by famous artists; Sebastian didn't know or care.

The man led him down the hall where they came to a vacant black marble reception desk. He pushed a button on the intercom and then he knocked on the black door quietly once. He turned the knob and held the door ajar gesturing for Sebastian to enter the room.

It took him a moment when he stepped through the door to locate the man in the massive office. He was sitting at his desk with his back to the door looking out the window over the city. His dark hair was combed sleekly back from his face and he wore a dark suit which was perfectly tailored for his body.

"Look at it Sebastian. From this far above we might actually believe that the city is a beautiful thing. From our bird's eye view we can choose to see it in any way we want. We can romanticize it as so many do when they see the lovers in a café. We can see the industry as people go to the shops for items they don't really need. We can see the art of the London stage and all the others who struggle to make a name."

He spun his chair around then and tapped a button on his desk causing blinds inside the window to close and make the office seem dim. He then looked at Sebastian shrewdly and smiled.

"Some of us know the real city though; know it for the cesspool it is. We know exactly what makes her tick and-I think- we know how to take from her what we need."

Sebastian was unsure how to respond. He just stood staring at this man. This man who was by no means imposing or threatening in stature, in fact he was on the short side. Yes his suit added an aura of dignity and authority in the way it was cut specifically for him. His crisp white shirt was also perfectly laundered and he completed the whole ensemble with a dark colored tie which appeared to have tiny skulls on it. Sebastian grinned. Moriarty stood now and smoothed his jacket as he held his hand out to shake Sebastian's.

"Sebastian Moran. Thank you for coming. I am pleased to hear that all went accordingly this morning. Davion informed me that there was some... _appalling_...evidence recently brought to light in your favor."

Sebastian breathed deeply as he surveyed this man, Sebastian was not stupid and he knew that Jim Moriarty was most certainly a wolf in sheep's clothing. Sebastian however had learned early on, as all tigers do, never to bite the hand that feeds. He smiled widely at Jim as they shook hands.

"Yes, everything was... _absurdly_...smooth. I struggle to see how I shall ever repay the favor. I'm sure you pay Mr. Mack handsomely and I'm afraid I could never afford his fees."

Jim smiled as he came around the desk. He clapped a hand to Sebastian's broad shoulder, his touch lingered a tad longer than was strictly prudent.

"Ah! You let me worry about Davion, he and I are quite good friends and we exchange small favors now and again."

He paused thoughtfully as he put his hands in his trouser pockets and looked a little perplexed. Sebastian was sure it was an act.

"I am concerned about you now Sebastian. What will you do for a job?"

Sebastian thought about it or at least he pretended to think about it because he felt certain that he could tell exactly where this was headed.

"I hadn't really thought about it to be honest."

Jim clapped his hands together and smiled again.

"Well, let's not worry about that at the moment. How about if I set you up in a flat and give you just a little something to get you on your feet and we'll talk in a few days."

Jim put his arm around Sebastian's shoulders and directed him toward the door talking as they walked.

"Go and see a bit of London for the next few days. I'll be in touch very soon. I promise. Harris will take care of you from here."

He was in the process of shaking Sebastian's hand again when he said, "Just out of curiosity, do you fight any longer?"

Aha! That's where this was headed then. Okay, he'd play along.

"I've been out of it for a while. I threw fists a bit while on the inside but nothing serious."

Jim raised his brows and nodded, apparently thinking.

"Well, no matter. I'll be in touch."

Then he shut the door and left Sebastian in Harris' care Sebastian was perplexed but he always knew the man was twisted and had many, many unique layers. He felt sure he'd have the chance to discover his true identity some day.


	9. Calamitous

Jim sat thinking quietly for a few minutes after Sebastian left his office. He just knew this was going to be quite enjoyable. He loved this. These little problems and games and puzzles were what he lived for. Sebastian was going to make a fine player indeed.

He picked up his mobile from the table and sent a message off to Davion then returned to his thoughts. He was going to need to coax Sebastian back into fighting and he would need a clever way in which to do so; a way in which Sebastian wouldn't read the underlying motive.

                                                      

* * *

 

He leaned back in his chair and recalled the first time he ever saw Sebastian fight. It was in that little cellar boxing club back in those sublime days just after Uni. He and Carl had gone to see what the fuss was about, Carl had said his friend Andy's father owned the pub upstairs so it would be 'cool'. Jim had reluctantly agreed.

Carl had mentioned Sebastian in passing when talking about his junkie friends and Jim knew that he occasionally supplied Carl though it was strictly recreational at this point. Jim had not been prepared for what he saw when he first laid eyes on Sebastian. The man was the epitome of masculinity with his square jawline and Caesarean good looks.  He was well muscled but not overdone with a few indiscernible tattoos that somehow only added to his magnetism.

Aside from all of this the thing that Jim noticed and enjoyed the most was his easy smile, it seemed that no matter what the quiet joke or who the unfortunate person that happened to be the target of their taunting he had no problem smiling and then laughing like the world was his oyster. At twenty one maybe it was. Regardless, Jim was transfixed, so much so that he never even noticed when Carl was no longer standing next to him.

When Sebastian stepped into the makeshift ring however there was no trace of humor on his chiseled features it was suddenly like watching a tiger stalking it's prey. His limber, sinewy body coiled and uncoiled as he bounced on the balls of his feet, never stopping nor slowing for even an instant as he circled his opponent. He kept his taped hands up at chin level and he was evidently right handed as he led with his left.

His unfortunate opponent was a lad from Scotland about the same size as Sebastian and with obviously less skill than he. The crowd had evidently chosen it's favorite because they had taken up chanting 'Bastian' as the two men circled one another. Jim however felt like he was completely alone in the room with these two... _artists- there was no other word for them..._ as they continued to dance round and round looking for their golden opportunity to strike.

The moment finally came when Sebastian saw his chance and he seized it like the predatory carnivore he was. He used his left for a short jab to distract the Scot and then he landed a solid hit on the man's jaw with his stronger right hand. The crowd shouting brought Jim back to reality and he saw Carl standing and staring at him while lazily smoking a cigarette.

"Good, isn't it?" Carl asked with a smirk.

He came over and took Jim's hand.

"C'mon, going home."

Jim could tell he was high and he became irrationally angry but with an effort he kept calm.

"You go on, I want to see who wins."

Carl sighed dramatically, "The same person who wins every night. Sebastian Moran."

Jim leaned over and kissed him on his cheek then.

"Go on, I'll be along in a bit, promise."

Carl rolled his eyes but left anyway. Jim was transfixed by these two men in the ring and their dance that was so intimate that it almost felt as though he was watching something forbidden. That was the night he took a more involved interest in the sport. He knew at that moment that this was something he wanted to be a part of, he never for a second saw himself as a fighter, no, he wanted to _control_ it, he wanted to be the choreographer.

It didn't take him long after that to start being a bit of silent backer. It was all very discreet and no one really knew the depth of his involvement; his name was never even whispered and often he was referred to as simply _'the spider'._ That amused him.

* * *

 

 Now in his London office he sat reminiscing and he was annoyed at how sentimental he was becoming. He grabbed his mobile again, needing a distraction he sent a text message to Andrea.

_~Darling, I feel absolutely horrid about last night and my abrupt ending to the evening. Please accept my apology and allow me to take you to dinner this evening?~ JM_

He had barely replaced his phone on his desk when it vibrated indicating a new text. He was disappointed when he saw that is was a reply from Davion in regards to his earlier message. He assured him that everything regarding Sebastian was in order and moving along nicely and also that Ramirez had agreed to the small fight in the states next week. It was nothing big but the kid needed to be seen. He just finished reading the message when his phone buzzed and this time he was pleased to see a response from Andrea.

_~No apology necessary! I'd love to join you this evening, thank you.~ Andrea_

He smiled serenely as he tapped a reply.

_~Marvelous. I will see you at eight.~JM_

He left the building shortly after that and headed home in order to simply relax for a bit before dinner since there was nothing terribly pressing at his office. When he arrived his door-man had a message for him in a sealed envelope. Jim took it from him without a word and stepped into the lift. He didn't open it once he reached his pent house instead he simply tossed it on the foyer table.

He went to the bar and poured a Scotch but he never drank it because as he was about to take a sip he looked at the paper and was distracted. He saw a small story near the bottom of the front page regarding a deal between a rival agent and the current heavyweight champion of the world. His blood immediately began to boil. This man had been trying for years to out-wit him and get his claws in this particular fighter. How had he allowed this to happen?

He slammed his hand down on the table in his anger. He'd been so distracted by Sebastian Moran he had let things slide. He straightened up and went to shower and get ready for dinner. He'd deal with it tomorrow.

After showering and dressing in a finely tailored black three piece suit complete with watch chain and ruby red tie he felt more confident and prepared. His hair was groomed perfectly and he had his faithful pocket knife as well. He left his flat and as he walked past the table in the foyer he glanced at the envelope there and hesitated. He decided to look at it later as he was already running late. He grabbed his over coat and made his way to the lobby.

He picked Andrea up at approximately eight o'clock which wasn't terrible considering he had been running late. He'd made a reservation at his favorite French restaurant and he'd made sure to have their finest Bordeaux awaiting their arrival.

When they were seated and fussed over in just the right amount Jim leaned forward and engaged Andrea in conversation using his eyes to captivate her full attention. He knew he was quite talented at that, if he truly wanted to hold someone he just needed to turn on the full power of his gaze. It was mesmerizing and Carl used to complain that it was unfair.

He reached over the small space between them and took her right hand is his left and held it gently as he spoke all the while using his thumb to tenderly trace circles on her wrist. He was also enjoying the feel of her heightened pulse and it made him shiver imperceptibly.

They talked about a wide array of subjects, he asked about her family explaining that he only had a basic idea of her home life and it was all what he'd heard rumored. She assured Jim that the rumors were indeed correct and her mother had abandoned her and her father but she didn't mind. She'd never looked for her mother either, she didn't need her. Jim listened intently as though he were being told the most fascinating fairy tale anyone had ever spun and his attention was rapt.

She stopped and sipped her wine, her cheeks coloring. "I've prattled on and on all about me! I'm so embarrassed, I don't even know why I've told you all that. It's positively droll and useless information."

He smiled, "Of course it isn't. I can't think of a time when I've had such wonderful dinner conversation. My evenings are never as entertaining."

His eyes were positively sparkling in the dim lighting. Finally as dessert arrived they had begun talking of even more intricate topics and as they veered toward politics Jim held up his hand.

"Here I must draw the line." He laughed with good humor. "Some of my dearest friends are in politics so I make it a personal rule to never speak too loudly on the subject. You understand?"

She assured him that she did and their topic became more light hearted after that as it went to athletics. They began discussing football, Andrea was an avid fan and then they ended up where Jim had wanted to be: boxing.

"Do you follow any of the fighters today?"

He asked as he took a bite of his soufflés. She shook her head and her eyes became distant.

"No, since I last saw my friend Sebastian I try to stay away from the sport. It's too painful."

Jim frowned slightly, "I understand. He was a great fighter at one time though."

She smiled sadly and Jim made a show of ending the topic.

"No more of this! What do you say to a final drink for the evening, my place?"

As he said this his eyes became huge and round and Andrea laughed revealing all of her beautiful white teeth. He could see her giving in as she thought it through.

"Oh alright then. I don't see why not."

He beamed and signaled the waiter for the check which was taken care of instantly. When they arrived at his flat the door-man let them in and handed Jim yet another envelope that appeared to be the same as the one from earlier in the day. He frowned in confusion but took it and put it in his pocket as they entered the lift.

The moment the doors closed he turned to Andrea and put one hand on her neck with his thumb resting on her jaw and his fingers tangled pleasantly in her silky hair. He admired her lips for a moment before bringing his mouth to hers and with his other hand on her waist he brought their bodies together. She was like putty waiting to be molded in his hands.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed even closer to him tasting the remnants of the magnificent wine from earlier. He turned her slightly and pressed her back against the wall as he continued to kiss her intensely. As they heard the ding of the bell signaling that they'd reached his floor they were both breathless.  Jim grabbed her hand and pulled her into the apartment.

Once inside he pinned her against the wall kissing her furiously as his hand slid to the hem of her dress and then slid up her thigh and out of sight. She sighed as she shivered under his touch. He pulled back for a moment and slid his free hand to the zipper at her side as she raised her hands and he pulled the dress over her head, she smiled wickedly at him.

Once her dress was removed she stood in her high heels and black thigh high stockings with a lacy black thong along with a matching lacy black bra. He stepped back one step to admire her and took one hand and caressed her side running his hand all the way down to her thigh. He stepped closer again and allowed her to unbutton his waist coat and loosen his tie.

She slid his jacket off and began working on the buttons of this shirt. Her delicate but firm hands then slid his waist coat and shirt off and undid his belt. With a wry smile he grabbed her hands and led her in the direction of his bedroom.

Once there he gently pushed her down on the bed and he was on top of her. He returned to kissing her slowly while running his hand gently over the flat plane of her stomach and down to where her hip bones were just noticeable. He slid his hand beneath the sparse lacy fabric of her panties and heard her gasp as he teased her just a little.

He then moved his mouth away from hers and kissed all along her jaw and down her neck and back up to her mouth causing her to tremble slightly. While he was kissing her he had continued to gently caress and tempt her finally sliding a finger and then a second inside her and coaxing her legs just a bit further apart. She bit his lower lip slightly but playfully and he smiled at her willfulness.

In a few minutes he brought his hand up and unclasped her bra which was hooked in that delicately white area between her perfect breasts. Once he removed it completely he leaned over her and sweetly kissed all along her collar bone and then down to each breast where he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked just enough to cause her to gasp slightly as he ever so gently bit down. He did the same on each one as he took her wrists and pinned both hands over her head.

He continued this, kissing and sucking and savoring every square inch of her sweet skin until she was practically writhing and his arousal was becoming uncomfortable as it strained against the fabric of his pants. He stood then and stripped but he stilled for a moment gazing at her as she laid bare upon his bed like a work of art, her body was thin but shapely and her pale Irish skin was not perfect but had smatterings of freckles here and there.

Her dragon fly tattoo on her right hip was just a bit faded but still delicate. Her fiery red hair was tangled and splayed all around her like a halo of fire against the white duvet. The thing his eyes were drawn to and held by however were the faint blue and purple veins that ran down both arms and he was positive he could see the beat of her pulse throbbing in the arteries in her neck. He wondered exactly which shade of crimson her blood would run.

These thoughts all passed through his mind in a matter of seconds and then he was hovering over her once more sweetly kissing her on the mouth as he slowly slid inside savoring the wetness. She moaned slightly and brought her hips up to meet his. He put one hand behind her head so he could hold her there and look into her sparkling green eyes.

He moved slowly and gently making sure that she felt all of him with each thrust. She had brought her hands up now and was digging her nails into his shoulder blades, digging them deeper with each movement. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist taking him as deep as was possible. He felt her becoming even wetter and he could feel the tightening in his abdomen as he was about to climax.

Andrea now tipped her head back and was moaning as he came and then laid on top of her as he went to her mouth and kissed her gently there a few times. She smiled sweetly at him and caressed his face softly, her hand lingering on his jaw. They fell asleep that way and when his phone rang around 1:30 A.M. they were both startled awake. He retrieved it from the pocket of his wrinkled and discarded trousers on the floor and answered it sleepily.

When he heard the voice on the other end he bolted from the room and into his bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later he explained that he would arrange for her to be seen safely home but he was very sorry he had an urgent matter come up.

"Is there anything you need from me?"

She asked concernedly as she watched him dress in one of his finest suits. He smiled apologetically at her. "No, but that's kind of you to offer."

As he straightened the knot on his tie and she was about to zip her dress closed he walked up to her and took her face in his right hand kissing her deeply while using his left hand to do up her dress. He backed up and smiled at her.

"I'm a despicable creature Andrea, you should know that first and foremost. No good man would share his bed with a woman like you and then up and leave at one thirty in the morning. These wicked circumstances must be dealt with however, I do hope you'll understand."

He kissed her once more and his eyes positively shone with regret.

"Calamity haunts me like a specter."

He sighed then and turned to leave, she never saw the smirk on his face as his back was to her just as he was unaware of the look that passed over her features. 


	10. Dealing in Blood

Sebastian had been sitting at the bar for a few hours now. When he'd first arrived and picked a spot closest to the telly he was the only one there. As the hours passed and he drank several pints the place had filled with the after work crowd. A bunch of young sods at entry level positions gathering over pints and complaining about management at whichever shitty company they worked for. It was depressing.

As the bar tender poured him yet another ale Sebastian could feel the group of people behind him looking at him. Their eyes were boring into his skull and he was getting annoyed. He caught bits of their conversation over the noise. _He_ was their conversation.

One git apparently bet the other that the man slouching at the bar was indeed Sebastian Moran the ex-boxer. The other said no that the guy at the bar just resembled him but he was not in nearly good enough shape to actually be him. Sebastian had to laugh at that , well they weren't wrong, not entirely. A sharp tap on his shoulder caused him to spin on his stool. The guys couldn't be much older than Sebastian he judged.

"Me and my mate here have a wager. I think you're Sebastian Moran the boxer. Ed says no."

It was the taller guy that spoke, Sebastian thought he reminded him of a beanpole. He smiled at the two guys revealing all of his white teeth reminding them forcibly of a shark about to attack. His grey eyes flicked to the guy on the left then he answered.

"Well, mate, you're out of luck. I do happen to be Sebastian Moran."

The winner guffawed loudly while clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"I _told_ you! I mean it's hard to see it but it is him!"

He looked back at Sebastian and the smile slid from his face.

"Sorry mate but, come on. I doubt you'd even contend for a title.  I bet I could take you."

Sebastian knew how to laugh at himself if nothing else so he smiled and turned back to the bar and his ale. Unfortunately the guy wasn't finished, apparently he wanted to show off for the girl he was with.

"So what happened? I heard that once you took that dive in the fight with Martinez you never had the same drive."

Sebastian didn't respond he just stared at the telly and the football match without actually seeing it. He could feel the bartender's eyes on him but he refused to look. He felt another sharp tap on his shoulder. He still ignored it.

"C'mon. Did you take that dive? I had money on that and I lost 'cause I fuckin' bet on you."

Now Sebastian heard his friends trying to coax him to leave. He was not going anywhere without an answer apparently. His friends finally gave up after a bit and left him there taunting Sebastian. Finally Sebastian decided that he'd had enough so he paid his tab and walked out side with the intention of getting a cab to his flat. He had no success in hailing one so he decided to just walk it and headed off down the street. At the corner he turned into a little unused lane and planned to take a short cut. He'd had quite a bit to drink and he was just thinking that he'd need to eat something soon when he heard footsteps on the pavement behind him. He stopped to light a smoke before he turned. It was the guy from the bar, he had evidently followed him and apparently he still wasn't finished.  The buzzing had already begun in Sebastian's ears; always a warning.

"You never gave me an answer mate. Did you,"

He walked right to where Sebastian was standing smoking and shoved him on his chest. It wasn't a hard push but from the alcohol he'd consumed he was a bit off balance so he stumbled a bit causing the other guy to sneer.

The guy continued, "Or did you not take a dive? Fuckin answer me, you washed up twat."

Sebastian no longer saw his surroundings as he dropped the finished butt to the damp ground and heard it sizzle in magnified tones as all his senses became heightened. He realized an instant too late that the guy had a knife. He hadn't seen him pull it out. He didn't recall doing it but in the next second he was on the kid. He hit him first with a right hook to the jaw and immediately followed with a jab to his sternum and when he was bent double over Sebastian's arm he brought his knee up to connect sickeningly with his nose which crunched and spurted blood.

The kid must've brought his hand up as Sebastian was about to hit him the second time because he briefly registered a searing pain in his abdomen immediately followed by a sticky warmth. He forgot about it in the next second though as he continued to hit and punch. He didn't even stop when the kid was on the ground and no longer moving.

Finally, out of breath and covered in blood he realized what he'd just done. He looked at the limp body and then looked frantically around the alley, there was no one in sight. He ran his bruised and bloody hands through his short hair making it stand on end. That was when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen as he looked down and saw his ripped shirt and the blood, he put his hand over it.

_Fuck! What the fuck have I done?_

He thought in a panic. He knelt down then and checked for a pulse, there was none.

_Shit, shit, shit._

He took a few deep breaths and tried to decide what to do. He reached in his jeans and pulled out his mobile which also brought out Jim Moriarty's card. He looked at it for a second and then made a choice, he was really in it now. He tapped the number into his mobile while looking at his watch, 1:30 A.M. _Jesus Christ_.

Jim answered groggily, "Yes?" "Mr. Moriarty, it's Sebastian."

Jim's voice immediately sounded awake and alert.

"What's happened? Where are are you?"

Sebastian smiled slightly, this man really saw through everything.

"I need your help."

He then told him where he was and not much else because he was afraid of being over heard, he suffered from severe trust issues. A very short time later Jim arrived with one of his men, a tall dark skinned man wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a leather jacket. Jim was impeccably attired in a grey suit and light shirt and perfectly knotted tie.

Jesus Christ, thought Sebastian. It was nearly two am and this guy shows up to this dark alley looking like he was heading to a fucking board room to close the biggest deal of his career. He walked up to Sebastian and then looked at the form on the ground. He frowned dramatically while rubbing his hands together.

"My, my Sebastian. You've certainly done a number on this poor boy. May I ask what he did to deserve such an end?"

Sebastian was calm again, it was always that way. After a kill while he was in the military his nerves would always be frayed but then he would begin to distance himself and eventually it was no different than killing an animal while hunting.

"It's complicated. I may have gotten a bit carried away."

Jim chuckled.

"I'll say."

"Listen, can you help me out or not? I don't know why but you were the first person I thought of. If you can't help then I'm truly fucked here."

Sebastian pulled out a pack of cigarettes and Jim shook his head at him.

"Don't be stupid."

He put his hand out palm up and Sebastian placed the pack there.

"DNA everywhere. Of course I can help you but I must say,"

He stepped even closer so there was barely an inch of space between their bodies and he used his finger to wipe at a speck of blood on Sebastian's face. Sebastian was not as uncomfortable as he should have been by the invasion of his space. Jim continued, "I can't do anything further without a few reassurances from you my dear. You see, I'm a businessman and as much as I'd love to make this all go away, I must know that you are prepared to pay."

He stood staring into Sebastian's face for a minute or two until Sebastian grinned.

"Yeah, yes of course I'm prepared. Tell me what you want from me."

Jim smiled widely. "Loyalty." He responded simply.

Sebastian held his hand out even at this close proximity and Jim looked down and grasped it in his own, the deal was sealed. Sebastian realized that he'd just sold his soul to the devil and he was oddly happy about it. The man who'd come with Jim now took his cue and pulled out his mobile presumably to get the ball rolling and dispose of the body. He also assumed that there were people to be blackmailed or made to disappear if they couldn't be blackmailed. Jim put his arm around Sebastian's shoulders and led him down the lane.

"Come, let's get you home and cleaned up. You're a right mess."

Sebastian allowed himself to be led toward his future and what he could only assume would be certain hell.


	11. Radioactive

 Sebastian awoke early to watery sunlight filtering in and burning his tired eyes. He laid for a moment with his arm covering his face and then decided that he wasn't going to fall back to sleep so he sat up. He immediately regretted that decision however as a piercing pain in his lower abdomen made him lie back and take a deep breath. He tried sitting up again but more slowly this time and he realized that he didn't recognize his surroundings.

He looked down and noticed a white bandage on his stomach and the knuckles of his right hand. He was still wearing his blood stained jeans from the previous evening and he began to remember some of the details, the pub, the taunting, the knife, _Jim_.

"Fuck." He muttered.

He sat on the edge of the obviously expensive sofa with his head in his hands wishing he had an aspirin when a voice startled him.

"Good morning, my dear. You're not looking half as well as I'd hoped. I imagine you'll be wanting this."

Jim walked over to him and handed him three aspirin and a water. Sebastian assumed it was not later than seven and Jim was once more dressed immaculately in a perfect suit; he wondered whether he'd ever stop being impressed by the man's sense of dress.

After he drank down the painkillers he looked up at Jim where he stood observing him and he couldn't help but feel naked, as if this man was able to read all his secrets and know the man that hid beneath. He had never felt more vulnerable in all his life.

Clearing his throat he asked, "Last night....I'm a bit hazy on the details."

Jim sat next to him on the sofa and gently took his left arm in his hand. Sebastian was annoyed that he shivered involuntarily as his body betrayed him.

"Such interesting artwork." He turned his arm over so that it rested palm up in Jim's hand. "Would you mind sharing the story of this design, some day?"

Jim asked as he traced the outline of the blackened angel wing. Sebastian was once more struck by the fact that he wasn't as put off as he should be by this incredibly intimate caress.

"I'd love to-someday."

He responded simply as he decided on the spot to play the game. It was obvious that Jim was a man who never stated his intentions simply, he evidently had a great mind and he clearly reveled in the puzzles and intricacies of human nature. Despite deducing these things about the man Sebastian was still unable to discern the true reason for his being here, what did he want from him? Jim released Sebastian's arm abruptly then and stood up looking all around the room. Sebastian kept his eyes fixed on him.

"Well I have things that require me at the office this morning. I'll have Harris bring you some fresh clothes I'm afraid yours didn't survive the evening in tact."

He frowned and then as he adjusted his tie pin and smoothed his jacket he said, "I'm rather impressed by you Sebastian Moran. I hope you will find time in your schedule to have dinner with me this evening?"

Sebastian nodded in response, he realized that it wasn't a request as much as an order. He wouldn't have refused anyway, how could he? This man who was his benefactor, savior, redeemer and somehow, inexplicably, his friend. Jim smiled widely as he rubbed his hands together.

"Wonderful! I shall see you later, get some rest and feel free to have Harris take you anywhere you might need but one thing, stay away from the pub."

Again Sebastian nodded as he smiled. He watched as Jim left the flat and then he laid back gingerly, closing his eyes against the dull stinging in his abdomen. He had really fucked up this time but in all honesty he wasn't convinced that he wasn't dreaming. His head was pounding and his body ached all over and he couldn't understand how he'd allowed this to happen.

He was indebted to this man now, that's how he worked. He never accepted a favor without intending to repay it. So he realized that he'd spend the rest of his life, if need be, trying to repay Jim Moriarty. Even then he wasn't sure if it would be enough.

He must've dozed off then for a while because the next thing he was aware of was an elderly man gently trying to wake him by shaking his shoulder lightly. Sebastian was glad that he was in such a banged up state because if he'd been fine he probably would've thrown fists and asked questions later. As it was the man had come to deliver some clothes for him, courtesy of Jim Moriarty.

Sebastian took the things and went in to the bathroom as the man had indicated so he could shower and dress. A few weeks ago he would've wondered how Jim had managed to get his sizes but he knew better now. There wasn't a thing that the man couldn't do.

He showered quickly wincing at the pain of the knife wound. As he was dressing he had to laugh at the fact that the jeans were made by some designer of which he'd never heard and probably cost more than the entire contents of his bank account. He shrugged into the white button up that seemed to have been made specifically for him even though he'd never been to a tailor for his measurements still he wasn't surprised. Lastly as he slid the fine Italian leather shoes on he couldn't help feeling a little awed by the power this man evidently held.

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror he felt that he actually looked presentable for the first time in ages. He came back out of the bathroom and found that he was alone once again; checking his watch he saw that it was only two and he didn't think Jim would return until at least five or six. He decided to wander around the place for a bit and see what he could learn of this man, the enigma.

He was obviously fastidious as nothing was cluttered or scattered. All surfaces were neat and tidy so that Sebastian felt odd even walking through and he worried about having gotten blood any where last night. The kitchen was large and spacious with a vast open island with uniquely shaped lights hanging above. The appliances looked as though they'd never been used and Sebastian supposed that a man like Jim didn't tend to do a lot of cooking.

The dining room looked as unused as the kitchen and again he reasoned that it was unlikely he would have need of it. He wandered now to the foyer and looked around at the empty space. His eyes were drawn to the little table there and the two envelopes. He found it strange because Jim obviously hated clutter and he wasn't careless so it was surprising he would've left these envelopes just lying here when he knew Sebastian was in the other room. He picked the top one up and saw that it had been opened so he glanced around even though he knew he was alone.

Inside was a sheet of paper made of the same expensive type as the envelope along with a snap shot that seemed to have been taken quite a few years ago. He inspected the photograph closely and realized with a shock that it was of a much younger Jim Moriarty with his back to the wall and being held there by a taller, blonde haired man who seemed to be snogging him quite passionately. He could barely make out a hand painted sign on the brick wall above that read ' **MacArthur's Pub** '. He stood staring at the photo for a few more minutes before he decided to take a peek at the letter. It was typed in a conservative font. As he read it his confusion only grew deeper.

_My Dearest,_

_Do you recall when this photo was taken? I do remember it, vividly in fact. We were very much in love at the time. You were very sweet in those days but then, so was I. I only thought you might like this as a keepsake._

 

_With all my love and adoration always,_

_Carl_

Sebastian stood dumbfounded by what he was reading and the photo he was gazing at. He couldn't believe that what he was imagining could possibly be true, could it? He didn't think it was possible but if he'd learned anything the past few weeks it was that nothing was impossible, not where Jim Moriarty was concerned. He tucked the contents of that envelope back inside and took up the one beneath it.

This one had also been slit open and then laid aside as well. This envelope held another picture but this one must've been a year or so later, Jim and Carl were standing at the bar of a pub and Carl had his long arms lazily draped around Jim's neck while Jim looked sulky but happy, if that was possible. Sebastian did a double take though on this photo, he knew that pub, he knew it well. The accompanying letter read:

_My love,_

_I do so hope you can easily recall the events leading up to this photo. I don't think it would be proper for me to write them on paper here but I can safely say it was the best time of either of our lives. I can recall thinking how proud I was to be yours, you never failed me. We were so young and so beautiful and just as all must learn we became corrupted. I miss those years, do you?_

_Yours eternally,_

_Carl_

By this time Sebastian's hand was shaking and so he replaced the contents and laid the envelopes back down as closely to the place he picked them up from. He knew Carl and these photos were without a doubt photos of Carl Powers and Jim Moriarty. What the _fuck_ was happening here? He ran a hand through his hair as he paced. Carl was dead, fucking died of an over dose, he was certain of at least that much.

He remembered ruefully the unfinished conversation all those years ago about Carl's new boyfriend, Jim. _Fuck_! He thought to himself. This could not be happening. As he ran the events through his mind continually and tried in vain to reason them out he heard the ding of the lift as it indicated someone getting off at this floor. He glanced at his watch as he swiftly headed for the kitchen so he wouldn't look too conspicuous. Jim came in beaming widely at him.

"Sebastian! I'm thrilled you're still here! Wonderful, wonderful. Are we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Yes! Yes, of course. And, thank you again, for everything. I really can't see any way to repay you but I swear I will try."

Jim smiled at him as he picked up an apple and began peeling it with his pocket knife which Sebastian had not seen materialize until he was using it; this disconcerted him more than he'd ever admit.

"Let's not discuss this right now, dinner will be at eight."

He put his unfinished apple on the sleek counter and turned to leave. Sebastian just watched him go and his thoughts were even more jumbled; he could not understand why he felt such a strong urge to be near that man nor why his loyalty to him was so compelling.

He barely knew him yet he also felt he'd never want to be parted from him, it made no sense and he was frustrated. He hated the way he couldn't tear his eyes from the man's mouth as he was speaking or the way those brown eyes drew him in and held him captive. He hated the way he couldn't stop from looking down at his trousers when he dug his hands deeply into the pockets making the fabric tighter than it already was across the front.

He _despised_ the way the man's black hair glistened and stayed neatly where he'd put it and how he always seemed to have just the right amount of dark stubble on his jaw and chin. Most of all Sebastian deplored the way he always felt the ridiculous urge to take Jim Moriarty and pin him against the nearest wall and kiss him until the only thing he was capable of doing was thinking, living, breathing, sleeping and dreaming of Sebastian.

He shook his head and sighed deeply, he was fucked. The man was a drug, a narcotic. He invaded your blood stream, took you over from the inside out but you welcomed it. He'd kill you slowly like a poison but you craved his brand of homicide. Sebastian knew the man was radioactive but he signed up for it and he'd do it again every time. He'd never break this habit and if truth be told, he didn't want to.


	12. Claws and Fangs

Jim had received yet another envelope in the post that morning. He wasn't unnerved as much as he was annoyed, he hated the thought that there was someone out there who believed they had an upper hand on him. His was a world carefully planned and plotted, there were no unknown puzzle pieces, no variables unaccounted for. _Nothing_ happened in his world that wasn't his specific design so he knew he just had to get to the bottom of this and he was confident that he would.

After confirming with Sebastian their dinner arrangements for the evening he went and locked himself in the small study of his flat where he slit open the envelope with his engraved silver letter opener. Tipping the contents out he saw it was the same as the last two, a photo accompanied by a letter in the same conservative font.

This photo he remembered well, he and Carl were standing just outside of the men's locker room following a swim meet in which Carl placed first. They were all smiles and warm touches but he recalled that it was an act they were both putting on. Jim chuckled as he looked at the glossy photo and remembered the events leading to that moment.

* * *

Carl had been clean for a bit and then suddenly one day he didn't come home at the time he'd said he would and when he did come through the door his eyes were glazed and glassy. Jim hadn't really let it bother him but he was annoyed so the next day when he awoke and Carl was on the sofa sleeping naked Jim felt an odd numbness course through his body. He gazed at the man for a while, he was so very beautiful but so inevitably doomed as well.

So it began once more, Carl coming home always high and at the oddest hours and then usually just passing out on whatever surface was closest, Jim was disgusted. About a week before the photo was snapped he and Carl had had their biggest row yet.

Jim had been working and Carl was supposedly at class and had promised to meet for lunch at the café. Jim had waited and waited but he'd never arrived so he went back to the office fuming. When Carl finally arrived home that evening Jim was sitting at the little desk going over some paper work. He heard the squeak of the door hinge but he didn't look up not wanting to see his guilty look.

He had heard him come in the room and make his way near the desk. He still didn't look up but he was also not really looking at the words on the paper either as they all seemed to blur together. He felt Carl's hand on his shoulder then and he willed himself not to move away even though the urge was tempting.

"You're angry with me?" Carl asked tentatively.

Now Jim turned to look at him and smiled easily. He wasn't angry anymore, suddenly. His anger had been replaced by something else in that moment something that wasn't easy to define, not yet.

"Of course I'm not angry my love."

He stood up then and grabbed his waist to bring him in close for a kiss. He let his hands slide down to the hem of his thermal shirt and lifted it over his head and threw it across the room as he then moved his mouth to Carl's neck and collar bone. He pushed away slightly as Jim bit him sharply on his neck and he brought a hand up to cover the spot with a hurt and questioning look.

"What the fuck?"

He asked but Jim didn't respond as he took his hand away and was happy to see that he'd drawn a little blood. Carl's features went rapidly from anger and confusion to fear and uneasiness. Jim felt a distinct coldness settling over him as he watched those pale blue eyes registering what was taking place.

That was truly the moment in time that he could always pin point as the moment he became aware that he was capable of controlling and ruling over men and women.  He drank in the power like the finest whisky, letting it saturate his taste buds. He was intoxicated by the newfound knowledge that he would only ever need his own sharp cunning and cold hearted methods to achieve his ends but for that moment he didn't want to give away too much so he kept a fair amount of his mask in place.

He grabbed Carl's hand and led him to the bedroom where he not very gently shoved him down on the bed. He bent over him and undid his jeans, slipping them off and taking his hard cock in his hand. He stroked it a few times watching Carl's face the entire time as he kept his confused and heated gaze locked on Jim. Then he bent lower and wrapped his mouth around it while he used his other hand to finger at his anus and he savored the tightness of the muscle feeling his own erection growing harder.

He licked up and down the shaft then sucking purposefully on the head while enjoying the sounds of Carl's pleasure as he did so. Standing up he stripped off his pajama bottoms and pants and he loved the way Carl's eyes went hungrily to his erection and he smirked. He crawled back on top of him and he held both of his long arms out at his side as he bit him and licked all across his chest.

Letting go of his arms he moved lower again this time licking at his inner thighs as Carl continued to gasp and moan slightly. Again he sucked his cock a few more times and then stood once more and went to the bedside table. He brought out a roll of strong tape and some lubricant, he held them both up for Carl to see. He smiled breathlessly as he sat up to better watch Jim's every movement.

Jim came to sit atop him and brought both hands up above his head, kissing and biting the muscles of his triceps and biceps on both arms almost certainly leaving bruises and drawing just a bit of blood which he promptly licked off. When he had brought both wrists together he was sitting on Carl's chest and he taped his two hands firmly together, making sure he would be unable to move more than a few centimeters.

He took the bottle he'd brought out and used a little on himself as he indulged a little and stroked his hard length a few times very slowly as he enjoyed watching Carl squirm. He took his time as he then stroked Carl a few times just as agonizingly slowly as he had done to himself. As he leaned forward again he pretended to kiss him along his already bruising collar bone but then he once more bit him drawing more blood and making him whimper breathlessly. He slowly sucked the few tiny beads of crimson from the spot and then ran his hand over the puckered skin feeling a shiver run down his spine.

He then took his hard, slick cock and slowly, very deliberately slid it inside him. He never once tore his eyes away from the other's face as he bit his lip at the tightness and the look of pain mingled with pleasure on Carl's face. He put his hands on Carl's arse as he fucked him slowly picking up momentum and all the while watching the pain and pleasure on the man's beautiful features. Finally just as he was about to come he looked fixedly into his pale eyes and asked,

_"How does Sebastian Moran's cock taste?"_

He briefly saw the startled look on Carl's face and then he closed his eyes as felt that euphoric feeling as he climaxed and all of his body felt as though it were made of rubber.

* * *

 

Now he stood in his little study and tossed the photo down on his desk and picked up the letter cracking his neck as he began to read:

_My Love,_

_Now here is a photograph I know you shall never forget. We both made a few questionable decisions but then we wouldn't be who we are without making mistakes occasionally. I know you agree, you've always said our mistakes define us more than our successes. I finally see the truth in those words but I do recall how angry I was when you left your mark on me for the first time._

_P.S. I always knew that you would, some day, sink your venomous fangs into that Irish tiger. I shall only caution you to beware the claws for you may forget them if you are focused on his stripes._

_Eternally,_

_Carl_

He sighed as he read the words twice. So, whoever this was knew about Sebastian. That narrowed the field considerably. He found himself suddenly in a much better mood. His mood was enhanced even further when he looked at the photo again and spotted the yellowish tint around Carl's right eye and the healing bite marks on his collar bone.

* * *

 

He remembered how Carl had looked so hurt when Jim was finished and he stood up to leave only pausing to use his knife to slice easily through the tape on his wrists. Jim had heard that Sebastian was back in town from the military and he had his ways of discovering that it was he who sold to Carl, reintroducing him to the drugs. As Jim stood gathering his things Carl had processed all that was happening and he had lunged up at Jim.

He'd had his back to him so he was startled initially but he responded quickly by turning and bringing his left hand around and connecting with Carl's right eye. He felt a sharp pain in his knuckles but he didn't care as he shoved Carl against the wall near the night table cutting off his shouts of, "You bastard!" And, "Fuck you!"

Somehow Jim had managed to get the knife that was laying on the bed side table and he now held it against Carl's Adam's apple as he watched his eye turning slowly purple. Even in this compromised and somewhat humiliating position of being naked and pinned against the wall with a knife a wrist flick away from ending his life Carl attempted to look haughty. Jim smiled slowly.

"I know you Carl, I know that there is nothing you won't do to get high."

Jim rolled his head on his shoulders causing his neck to crack. Carl smirked as the blade bit into the skin of his neck producing a few beads of scarlet.

"Fuck off." He spat at Jim.

Jim pressed the blade in just a bit more causing Carl to wince and then he let him go, as he turned away he said, "You're nothing but a filthy whore."

* * *

 

Now he was showered and dressed in dark, tailored trousers that were fitted perfectly for his body along with a light grey button up. He had decided to forgo a tie tonight since he and Sebastian were dining casually so he left the top few buttons undone revealing his collar bone and the ivory skin there. His dark hair was of course groomed to perfection and he had, as always, the perfect amount of dark stubble on his face. He completed his ensemble with a matching sport coat and he felt more than prepared to meet with Sebastian.

He wore his clothing like an armor, meant to protect him while at the same time inspiring fear and respect. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was half past eight, perfect. He wanted Sebastian to wait for him, it was part of his tactic.

He arrived at the small restaurant and found Sebastian nursing an ale at the bar so he decided to join him.

"Sebastian! I'm so pleased you could join me!"

He clapped a hand to his back and signaled the bar tender to pour him whatever Sebastian was drinking. Sebastian smiled in good humor and scooted his stool over a bit so Jim could sit next to him.

"Thank you for inviting me, sir."

Jim took a long drink of his cold beer and as he set his glass on the bar he shook his head slowly.

"Please, please call me Jim."

Sebastian smiled and Jim took his first good look at him. There was no denying his good genes combined with some effort to make the man look like nothing short of a male model. His light hair was short and today was the first time Jim had seen him with no trace of scruff which drew attention to the slight scar about two inches long on his cheek that only added to his look for some reason.

He was wearing the things Jim had ordered for him, the ludicrously expensive dark designer jeans, the black Italian leather shoes and light blue button up which caused his eyes to change from the cold gunmetal grey that they normally were to a slightly bluer, more icy color. Jim also noticed the tip of a shamrock showing from beneath his shirt collar at the nape of his neck. He couldn't wait to discover how many other tattoos the man had and the meaning behind each and every one.

Lastly his eyes settled on Sebastian's long, dexterous hands as they held his pint and he could see the two tattoos that ran down each arm, he'd seen those up close when he'd brought the man home from that dark alley. One arm had what appeared to be a silvery pure angel wing from the elbow and wrapping around his arm, the tip of the wing ending just past his wrist. The other arm had the same design but the angel wing was blackened and appeared to have been burned. Jim licked his lips once and turned his gaze to Sebastian.

"Sebastian, may I call you Sebastian?"

Jim asked knowing that no one had ever called him by his full Christian name since his mother passed and also knowing that Sebastian would never try and dictate to him which name he'd prefer to be called by.

"Of course. Most just call me Bastian or any number of less savory things but Sebastian will do." He responded a bit sardonically as a smirk played at the corners of his mouth causing a muscle to twitch in his jaw.

" _Very_ good, well, Sebastian, I've asked you here tonight because I have something that might interest you."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows in question obviously wondering what a man like Jim could have that would interest him.

"As I'm sure you are aware, I have a distinct interest and quite a large amount of funds tied up in the boxing industry. None of my boys have been doing exceptionally well of late."

He paused here and frowned as he took a sip of his beer before continuing. "I have two tickets for a fight next week at Madison Square Garden in New York City and I wondered if you'd be interested in joining me. I'd like very much if you'd take a look at the challenger."

Sebastian's face was blank but it didn't fool Jim. He knew very well that Sebastian would absolutely know of the fight and he'd also know who just so happened to be fighting at The Garden at that time as well. Martinez, Jim's fighter, currently his best and also the reason that Sebastian's boxing career failed. To buy himself some time Sebastian signaled the bartender for another one and he purposely kept his eyes forward. Once his drink had been refilled he took a deep breath causing his broad shoulders to rise and then fall dramatically then he turned to look fully at Jim.

"Okay, fine. I'd love to go but, Davion has ordered me not to leave the country and I highly doubt that he'd be over the moon about me going to New York."

Jim chuckled as he arranged his features into a look of mock horror with his eyebrows shooting up exaggeratedly.

" _Noooooo_!" He said and then he laughed again. "You let me worry about the legal issues Sebastian. So, you'll be joining me then, that's just splendid. We have rooms booked at the Ritz Carlton on Times Square. We leave on Monday. I imagine that'd be enough time for you?"

Sebastian sighed and agreed that it would be plenty of time. Jim laughed again and placed a hand on his forearm where it rested on the bar.

"Oh, I do think we will enjoy this. Nothing like a well matched fight to get your blood pumping, don't you agree?"

Sebastian nodded warily. The dinner then passed quite amicably over a few more pints and Jim not touching most of his food while he enjoyed watching as Sebastian's gaze kept flicking unconsciously to the open neck of Jim's shirt and then up to his mouth as he spoke. Being the instigator that he was he would lick his lips every time he noticed it and then smirk knowingly causing Sebastian to look away in annoyance.

As they were leaving the restaurant and they stood outside on the pavement shaking hands Jim gave Sebastian the details of their trip promising that he'd get a full itinerary in the post in the next few days. Just as they were about to head in opposite directions Sebastian looked shrewdly at Jim and said,

"You really want me at this fight? You know my history, I don't see why you'd care one bit about my opinion. I'm washed up and I was never very good to begin with."

Jim stepped closer so that there was very little space between their bodies and he smoothed the collar of Sebastian's shirt under his jacket. His touch lingered a little too long.

"When I want a mouse killed I find the meanest Tom-cat around. When I need the Tom-cat gone I get the most vicious Doberman in the kennel. You see where this is going. You're a tiger among antelopes and if I need to take down an antelope I want the best hunter in the jungle by my side to do so."

He patted Sebastian on his chest once and then turned to walk away but just before he slid into the back of his waiting car he said, "Time to sharpen those claws tiger, the jungle is full of predators just waiting to pounce."

Then he was gone.


	13. In the Jungle

Sebastian stood on the pavement smoking as he watched Jim's car pull away from the curb. It had been a strange few days and he was still not quite sure that he hadn't imagined it all. He replayed the events of the evening in his mind as he turned to walk down the street towards home. He was starting to see Jim's plan even if it was just bits and pieces of it, he'd be able to string them all together later- hopefully.

As he walked he was thinking about the upcoming fight and wondered why Jim would ask him to come to New York with him especially since there was no doubt that Jim would know the story of Martinez. He couldn't understand why Jim would want the two fighters in the same building it had no possibility of ending well. Perhaps that was what Jim was hoping for? That didn't make sense either.

Sebastian had been watching Martinez's career, it had not been fabulous and he had yet to be in a prize fight. The fight coming up at The Garden was a prize fight but he was just boxing in one of the smaller pre show fights. The man was bitter, it was written all over his face and Sebastian was sure that he was in some way to blame even if it was just a little.

* * *

 

As angry as he became at the memory he did have to at least laugh at the way karma tends to actually happen occasionally. Sebastian had been fighting small time and he was still kind of a nobody as far as any boxing organization was concerned but he was about to get his break. One night in a small club just outside of Dublin he was noticed by a scout who approached him afterwards, his match only lasted a few short minutes and had ended in a TKO. The man was impressed and told him so offering to move his career along, Sebastian was thrilled.

The next few months were a whirlwind for him, if he wasn't traveling to different venues for matches, he was in the smelly old gym working. He felt like he spent a solid six months alternating between real fights and sparring with his trainer. He didn't complain though because the fringe benefits were more than he could've ever hoped for. Each time he fought he couldn't leave an arena with any less than ten girls and some boys throwing themselves at him. Plus, he was now getting decent and regular pay checks so he kept up the pace.

Eventually everyone had begun to talk about Bastian Moran and his possibility of challenging for the title. Things couldn't have been better with the exception of Andy. Once he'd come back home from the military with a bullet wound that he was thankfully able to overcome they'd had a falling out and were not quite on speaking terms. She'd found out that he'd sold drugs to Carl and she was angry and being Andy she didn't keep it to herself. He felt bad about it but it wasn't really his fault, Carl was... _persuasive_. He tried not to think too hard about it.

He found the pace of the training and the fighting almost impossible to keep up so he started taking a little something, just for energy in the beginning. Then he started wondering how much better he'd be able to perform with a little help, it'd be harmless and no one would have to know. That was when he met Martinez at a fight, they weren't going against one another and they'd hit it off from the start. Martinez was a good kid. So he thought.

He helped him get in touch with a guy and he began taking performance enhancing drugs; now there wasn't any doubt that he'd get a shot at the title. Everything was great, in fact, Andy had even contacted him just to tell him congratulations on one of his more brilliant knock outs. Martinez had begun to rise at the same time and it just so happened that they were billed to square off one night. If he could knock out Bastian Moran his career would almost certainly sky rocket.

They happened to be in a town in Scotland at that time and Sebastian wound up having one rare night free so he went to the pub to kill some time. Martinez came in and sat next to him. Sebastian smiled warmly in greeting.

"You getting ready for the fight, kid?" Sebastian asked with a smirk.

"You kidding? I was born ready, I've been waiting for this moment my entire life." He responded as he ordered a pint.

Sebastian drank his ale in silence then, he did enjoy the kid's company.

"Things are looking good for you Bastian. Everyone is billing you for the title. Imagine it, how would you feel about it?" Martinez didn't look at him as he said this, he kept his gaze straight ahead.

Sebastian turned his whole body toward him with a questioning look on his face.

"What're you getting at Raul? You have something to say to me?"

He shrugged his shoulders still not making eye contact. "I guess I'm just tryin' to say it doesn't seem fair, not to me."

Sebastian could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck as Martinez kept talking. The buzz had begun in his ears and he was barely controlling the shaking of his hands as he held on tighter to his glass of ale.

"How long have you been wantin' to say something to me? Is this some kind of game for you?" Sebastian was defensive now and his anger kept growing.

Finally Martinez turned in his seat to look into those cold, steely eyes. "No! This isn't a game but- fuck - Bastian, c'mon. You know it's wrong what you've been doing. It just isn't fair and-"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, "Yeah? And?"

Martinez averted his gaze, "Well, if I win our match it could open a lot of doors for me man."

Sebastian took a deep breath, "And you don't think you could beat me?"

Martinez laughed humorlessly, "No, no fucking way. Listen, I don't wanna do this Bastian but, I'm going to have to go to the officials."

Again he refused to look at Sebastian. Sebastian sat processing the words then he looked around, the place was almost empty. Besides a young couple in a corner booth and the barkeep it was just them. Sebastian looked back at the kid and fixed his icy glare on him.

"No." He said it simply but his voice was low and menacing.

Martinez looked startled but resolute, as though he'd made up his mind and now planned to see this through regardless of the outcome.

"Bastian, I'm not fucking around, I mean it. Either you come clean or I do it. Those are your options."

Sebastian smiled dangerously. As always the buzzing in his ears had reached a pitch where all other noise was blocked out and he forgot that he was sitting in a pub in Scotland. He forgot that there was a middle aged barkeep absently wiping the bar. He forgot that there was a young couple deeply in love sharing drinks in a darkened booth. The only thing he knew was that he was being threatened and his career was being threatened and so he must do the only thing he knew how to secure his future.

He was on his feet so quickly that Martinez didn't even have time to react, his bar stool was flung backwards in a whirl of scraping wooden legs and then Sebastian's hands were around Martinez's neck and he brought his head forward to the bar which then caused him to land on the floor, dazed. Most people would've probably been knocked out cold but his time in the ring had obviously toughened him enough to withstand the blow. Sebastian stood waiting for him to get back on his feet, feeling the electric current coursing through his body.

As soon as he was standing again Sebastian was on him. He punched and kicked and brought his knee into the other's sternum time and again until he was a bruised and bloody mess lying in a heap on the wooden floor. The only thing that stopped Sebastian from beating him to death that night were the several pairs of hands on him pulling him away. He spent that night in lock up waiting to be arraigned.

The next day Martinez's attorney showed up and explained that his client wouldn't press charges if, and only if, Sebastian agreed to take a dive when they did meet up in the ring. Their fight had been postponed. Sebastian truly had no other option so he agreed and he never hated himself more than at that moment. So when they finally squared off a few weeks later and he did take the dive he was disgraced.

Mostly everyone knew, there was no way that a second rate fighter like Martinez could ever really knock out Bastian Moran. The worst part was that rumors had begun leaking about his use of PEDs as well so he was disgraced a full 360 degrees. He was at his lowest.

* * *

Now as he made his way home and he mulled over all that had transpired in the past few weeks he was even more confused. He did smile at the memory that he had at least left a permanent mark on Martinez; the man never had full feeling returned to his right arm after that fight in the pub and Sebastian suspected that he had something to do with it as he'd managed to dislocate that shoulder, he assumed it caused some sort of nerve damage. It didn't ruin his career but it most definitely prevented him from ever being really famous. Which Sebastian found odd now that he thought of it, why would someone like Jim want to have anything to do with a fighter like Martinez? He filed that away for later consideration.

* * *

He reflected then on how lucky he'd been to have Andy back in his life. That night after the fight and his inevitable disgrace he'd phoned her. He just needed the comfort of her familiar voice, he needed to hear her tell him that it was alright and the rest of the world could go and get fucked because she loved him. He needed her that night the same way he'd needed his mother all of his life and while she couldn't be there for him he always knew that Andy would.

He showed up at her flat, she'd moved to her own place away from her dad, and she welcomed him with open arms. He'd probably always remember the way she looked when she opened the door that night, her fiery hair was in a messy knob on her head, strands falling loose everywhere from the sheer weight of her thick hair. She had a university sweatshirt and sweatpants on and, as usual, very little makeup. She held her arms open to him and he melted into her embrace trying to draw strength from her.

He still found it odd how someone as small as her had the ability to make someone his size feel as safe as a child in her arms. He had forgotten until that moment just how much he needed her. She had held him for a few moments longer and then she guided him inside. He threw his weathered leather jacket on a chair by the door and kicked off his shoes. She went to the small kitchen and brought a bottle of Jameson and two glasses in to where he sat on the sofa.

"Ya look like shit Bastian."

She filled their glasses as she spoke and Sebastian raised his eyebrows at the amount.

"Oh, don't act like ya can't drink it. Tell me what happened?"

He smiled and took a gulp of his, "Eh, Andy it's not worth your time I promise ya. Thanks for letting me crash here though. I just couldn't go home tonight, not alone."

She sighed huffily, "Don't be a bastard, tell me wha' happened."

He then explained it all to her as she sat with her feet under her and twirling a strand of her silky red hair around her finger. When he finished she just looked at him and asked, "Well, what could ya've done? I mean ya probably shouldn't'a beat the bloody hell outta him in that pub but he fuckin' deserved it."

He smiled widely at her indignant response. No matter what else happened, having Andy back on his side suddenly made it seem as though he could handle anything and truth be told, he could. He couldn't really remember now what had propelled him forward in that moment, all he knew was that the next thing that happened was probably the one moment in his entire life that he never regretted, not for one second.

He'd somehow suddenly made the decision to lean forward and grab Andy's face in his hand and kiss her. He kissed her so deeply and passionately, it was what he assumed real love would feel like. He'd never kissed another person this way, all the others were just a way to sex, this was honest and pure. She returned the kiss after her amazement passed and he loved the way her tongue moved inside his mouth, grazing his teeth, moving over and along with his tongue. He suddenly felt her small hands in his short hair locking his face firmly in place.

* * *

Now in his small London flat he tried to stop the memories but unfortunately the brain works in ways that are difficult to understand sometimes and so he now found himself lounging on his sofa, Jameson in hand and remembering it. They had both clumsily put down their glasses so they'd have their hands free and they'd slid sideways so they were almost lying down. He slid his right hand under her sweatshirt and under her tank to the bare skin of her stomach.

She instinctively arched her back and then she relaxed, he assumed it was unnatural for her to feel his hands on her body. He understood and he smiled against her neck as he kissed her. She tipped her head back to allow him easier access and he kept going. He cupped her small, perky breast in his hand and rolled her nipple between his fingers gently. She gasped and dug her hand into his hair a little harder. He moved to the side a little so she was cradled safely in his arms then and he held her tightly all the while kissing her and losing himself with each passing second; he found that he didn't mind.

They carried on that way for a while until she removed his fitted t-shirt and then moved her hands down to the button on his jeans. He covered her small hand with his much larger one and he used his other to tip her head up to look into those sparkling emerald eyes. God! He wanted her so much, he'd always wanted this but he'd always been terrified of what would happen to them if it was allowed.

"Are you sure? Is this really what you want?" He asked her in an uncharacteristically soft voice, she smirked at him.

"Shut up, ya idiot." She responded and then went back to kissing him and succeeded in the undoing of his jeans.

They worked together to wriggle them down over his hips and then he pulled her sweatshirt and sweatpants off as well leaving her in her pink lace panties and matching bra. He groaned once and then easily flipped her so she was on her back and he was hovering over her. She reached a hand up to his pectoral muscle where he had not long ago had a rifle scope tattooed over his heart.

He leaned in then and slipped his hands inside her panties, feeling her wetness he yanked them down over her hips and removed them. Taking off his own pants he then grabbed her by her hips and slid slowly inside never once taking his eyes from her face. Her eyes glowed like gems in the low lighting and then she closed them blissfully as he began moving.

He went slow at first because he'd wanted this for so very long but he was overwhelmed with how badly he needed her, how badly he wanted her to hold on to him and never, ever let him go again. He tried to continue with the same rhythm but he just couldn't stay calm and he thrust deeper and harder wanting to hear her voice shout his name as she orgasmed. He wanted to feel her whole body shudder around him and cling on to him as though he alone could give her what she needed, now and always.

It wasn't long until he felt it, the warmth and the tightening in his groin and then he was holding onto her tightly as she clenched her legs around him and they were both sweaty and panting. He never wanted to move from this position, sticky and covered in sweat, it was the best moment of his entire life. He held her close and kissed the top of her head until she finally pushed him away a bit so she could look at his face. She wiped away a tear from his cheek and she never mentioned it.

* * *

He smiled in the darkness of his flat as he gulped down the last of his whisky. If only they could've stayed there, in that tiny flat on that sofa in that moment. How different things could've been but, maybe not. Maybe they never could've been together, that seemed most likely. He realized in that moment just how true Jim Moriarty's words were from earlier that evening, _'The jungle is full of predators just waiting to pounce.'_

He stood up then and stretched intending to go to bed. It had been a long day and he felt emotionally drained but he just couldn't stop thinking about her, about how sad she had looked the following day when she wouldn't meet his eyes and asked him to leave. She never gave an explanation but he didn't really need one, he'd always known. He loved her with his whole soul and she loved him as well but that was all they'd ever have together, the one night. It was her gift to him and he took it and accepted it and knew that he'd hold on to it forever because he wasn't right for her, he wasn't good enough.

As he finally made his way to bed he smiled ruefully. Well, he thought, I'm prepared to play your game Jim Moriarty, at any cost. He had nothing left to lose, he'd lost everything all those years ago and he just now realized it. All his chips were down, time to see what kind of hand he was dealt.


	14. High Stakes

Jim arrived at his building sooner than he'd been expecting; since he'd been lost in his own thoughts the trip across town flashed by in a forgettable blur.  He stepped out as Harris held the door open and went inside. Once more his door man had an expensively made envelope and handed it to him with a nod and a "Mr. Moriarty" by way of greeting which went ignored as usual.

Just as Jim reached the lift however he was struck by a thought so he turned and went back to the desk where the man now looked positively wary.

"When you receive these envelopes, who delivers them?"  He asked without any preamble.

The man looked frightened at first but then he thought about it for a moment.

"Well, sir, it's this tall gentleman. Very nice manners, soft spoken, fair haired. He's always dressed quite nicely, always in nice suits."

Jim was startled but obviously he didn't allow it to show.

"Has he ever said his name?"

The man shook his head, "No, sir. I've never asked."

Jim arched his eyebrows, "What good are you if you don't even do your job properly?"

Then he turned on his heel and headed back for the lift but the elderly man's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm sorry sir, but he did say one time that you'd been awaiting his letter for twelve years and today he asked me to remind you of the cottage."

Jim's face was blank but internally he'd gone cold. No one, not a soul knew about the cottage. This he was positively certain of and now he wondered. At the lift he jabbed the button with unnecessary vigor, he was now in a hurry and he didn't have time to wait for a bloody lift.

In the solitude of his flat and after checking to be sure that the door was firmly locked he shrugged out of his sport coat and went to his kitchen. He grabbed a knife from the crock on the marble counter and slit open the envelope. Two photographs fell out this time and he stood simply staring down at the glossy prints.

He placed both hands on the counter to steady himself as his world felt like it was spinning. He slammed his fist down on the counter then, no one, _NO ONE DID THIS TO JIM MORIARTY._ He took a deep breath and absently picked up the sharp knife from where he had left it after opening the letter.

He then picked up the first photo, it showed him lounging on a blanket on the beachy lake shore reading a book while Carl laid with his white blonde head in his lap. He had to smile as he recalled how the sun had bleached his hair that summer, Jim had loved it but it drove Carl mad. He realized now that no one had been at the cottage with them so this picture should really be impossible, no one _knew_ about the cottage.

He inspected the angle of it, the photographer would've had to be across the lake with a zoom lens, he guessed it was more than possible because he wasn't as diligent then as he was now. He had a lot less to hide in those days he mused. This was during one of their rare peaceful moments in their hurricane romance. In retrospect he now saw that this moment in time was very much like being at the eye of the storm, it was peaceful and calm in their carefully crafted world but all around them was hell and rocky seas throwing everyone else over board. He chuckled dryly at the memory of their conversation that afternoon in the warm sunlight.

* * *

Carl had been dozing on and off while Jim read a book that Carl called "dreadfully dull". Jim ignored him. It was so lovely though as the sunlight glinted pleasantly off that lake making it look like it was full of thousands of tiny diamonds. The trees rustled in the gentle breeze and the animals made small scuffling noises. Occasionally Carl would get really bored and he'd shove Jim's book out of the way and insist on a kiss but mostly it was enormously calm and peaceful.

At one point Carl stretched his tall, lean body and then rolled on his back with his head on Jim's lap. He reached up and grabbed his book and put it out of reach much to Jim's annoyance.

"Carl, _love_ , if you're bored you can go and find a way to distract yourself. Have a swim but give my book to me."

"I'm not bored, not really. I just wanted to talk to you."

Jim sighed, irritated. "Fine, what would you like to talk about then, my dear?"

"Us." He reached a hand to Jim's jaw and caressed his face with the back of it.

Jim narrowed his eyes, uncertain where this could possibly be going. "Well, what about us? I thought all was going well..."

Carl's gaze was distant and dreamy and he didn't answer immediately. He exhaled in a huff then rolled on to his side so he was level with Jim's stomach.

"Where are we going?"

Jim was getting really annoyed now, he hated discussing feelings and relationship topics and Carl's vagueness was infuriating. He tilted Carl's head back so he could look into his eyes and he loved the way the sunlight made his blue eyes seem almost like ice, they were so cold.

"To my knowledge we aren't going anywhere, we came here to the cottage for a holiday. What's wrong with you?"

Carl moved his head out of Jim's grip. "Nothing is _wrong_ with me. I just think we've been together for a bit now and we've never discussed anything more than when and where we'd fuck next. I guess I just- never mind."

He went to sit up but Jim pulled him back down. "Carl, something is obviously bothering you, something other than a lack of communication.  What is it?"

He hesitated, biting his lip as he made up his mind. "I see the way you watch him."

Jim closed his eyes for a moment before responding. "And who might you be talking about my love?" He asked in a strained voice, he knew precisely who Carl was referring to.

"Sebastian Moran, when you watch him box it's like you're not even in this world any longer, it's- it's like you can only see him. The world could burn around you and you wouldn't even notice. I don't know.." He trailed off then losing steam.

"I'm going to have a swim." He said then as he stood.

Jim still hadn't responded or even moved an inch. That was exactly the way he felt when watching Sebastian box and although he'd never even once spoken to the man he was completely captivated by him. He snapped himself back to reality just as Carl was swan diving from the end of the dock. He arced gracefully through the air and Jim was annoyed with himself, Carl swimming was beautiful too, it was his very own art form.

He distractedly picked up his book from where Carl had placed it a few moments before. He stared at the page without really seeing it. He must've sat that way for a long while because suddenly he was aware of Carl standing above him toweling off and blocking the sun. Jim looked up and had to shade his eyes against the late afternoon sun as it slanted over the trees bathing the area in a warm glow. He was struck by how achingly beautiful the man was.

* * *

Now in the kitchen of his flat he picked up the accompanying letter and read:

_My Darling,_

_The cottage. You must be able to think easily of the time we spent there. You've never been sweeter and more lovely than on that particular weekend. I dearly hope that you remember the evening following this photo, in front of the blazing fire. My pulse still quickens when I think of it._

_P.S. Your secret is still safe with me._

_Most Lovingly Yours,_

_Carl_

Jim's mind was racing. There was no possible explanation for this and yet, there had to be one. There must be a logical and rational excuse for these letters and photos. Carl was dead, he had never been more certain of anything in his entire life. He was thinking now about later that same day at the cottage.

There were only two possibilities that would explain anyone knowing of the events that took place. The first was that the sender would have had to actually _be_ Carl and since Jim knew that was impossible then the only other explanation would be that Carl had told someone. He couldn't think who Carl would've confided in though since at that point they rarely spent time with other people being as obsessed as they were with one another. He felt an odd feeling as he thought of it now.

* * *

After Carl had gone for a swim and he came back to the blanket where Jim was sitting wrapped in his thoughts they both seemed a little awkward so he decided to break the tension. He laid his book aside and stood wrapping his arms around Carl's damp torso. Carl seemed shocked.

"What's this about?" He asked confusedly as he paused in the act of towel drying his hair.

"Mmmm." Was all Jim replied as his head leaned against Carl's chest.

The sun was beginning to truly set now and the air had taken on a slight chill. He grabbed Carl's hand and led him into the small, quaint house. Inside he ordered Carl to get changed into something warmer and he did the same after which he had started a fire in the grate. It was picturesque and couldn't have been more perfect.

Jim poured two large glasses of red wine and carried them to the blanket on the floor where Carl sat absently running his hand through his still damp hair. When he was seated and leaned back against the old, squashy sofa he looked adoringly at Carl who was a bit shocked. Jim then reached over and pulled the sleeve of Carl's sweatshirt to make him move closer. When he had him comfortably situated on his lap and they were both simply enjoying the warmth of the fire mixed with the comforting taste of the wine Jim spoke.

"You're very important to me Carl. I know you don't believe it and I know I don't always show it but, it's paramount to me that you understand that."

Carl gazed up at him, firelight reflected in his pale eyes. "Jim I-"

Jim put a hand over his mouth muffling his voice and causing him to smile. That was the most beautiful thing about him, he realized then. His smile. Not just because it was aesthetically pleasing but because it lit his entire face and suddenly the dreamy, troubled and haunted features were young and beautiful and carefree. Jim adored those moments.

"Carl I need to tell you something and I need to know that you will never tell another soul."

Carl's smile slid from his face unnaturally fast and he tried to sit up. Jim held him firmly in place though, he remembered thinking that if he was going to do this then he needed the secure body weight of Carl. He was sure that Carl was far from prepared for what followed.

Without looking at Carl he began speaking, the only other sound was the faint blowing of the wind and the crackling fire.  He then confided his deepest and his darkest secret.  He told Carl how when he was only eight years old he'd witnessed his step father sexually abusing his younger brother.  He'd tried to tell his mother but she didn't want to hear it and told him he was making it up.

He was being sent away to school then for telling naughty tales and trying to cause trouble.  His brother, Jack, had come to his room one night crying and begging him not to go.  Jim had decided that he'd need to do something to protect his brother in his absence.  

He then spent the following weeks doing research and discovered a poison that could be made at home and was virtually undetectable in the blood stream as a toxin.  He would sprinkle it in his step father's drinks and on his food for several days. Most times the cause of death would be ruled a 'hardening of the arteries' when this poison was used, so it was for his step father. He didn't regret doing it but unfortunately it was too late and hadn't helped his brother.  Jack killed himself two years after that.  That was the last time Jim had anything to do with his family. 

The cottage was complete silence when he finished speaking and Carl was holding on to his hand very tightly.  Once his astonishment faded a bit he sat up and grabbed Jim's face firmly between his hands and kissed him with such intensity that it seemed he was trying to make Jim forget any of his past pain.  Tears were streaming down Carl's face and he pulled Jim in as close as he possibly could, horrified at his past.

Jim found it odd but he was suddenly comforting Carl, he'd really thought that Carl would have run for his life, perhaps he should have.  

Carl kept muttering, "I'm so sorry you had to endure that.  I only wish you'd told me sooner, you did the right thing you know."

As they clung together on the floor in front of that fire Jim felt whole and free for probably the first time in his memory. Before he knew it Carl was pulling his sweatshirt over his head and pushing him down to a prostrate position while climbing on top of him. He felt his hands go to the waistband of his sweats and he was immediately aroused.

It wasn't long until Jim felt his mouth on his erection and he sucked in air through his teeth at the warm, slick sensation.  He tangled his hand in Carl's hair as he felt his tongue sliding up and down his length. When he felt Carl cup his balls firmly he thought he wouldn't make it much longer, he wasn't wrong.  In just a short time he was climaxing as Carl continued to lick and suck.

When he'd finished he came and laid cradled in Jim's arms.  They slept that way.  Jim was at peace unfortunately it couldn't last.

 

* * *

He shook his head trying desperately to dislodge that memory. He picked up the second photo now and gazed at it for a long moment. It had been taken tonight in the pub as he and Sebastian sat at the bar. It was the moment when he had laid his hand on Sebastian's arm and let his touch linger momentarily.

Now he was angry with himself for allowing this to happen. He could let those old photos slide, they meant nothing except for possibly the cottage one. This was something different entirely. His anger grew marginally as he read the letter.

_My Love,_

_I'm sure you're wondering why I've sent two this evening. Well, I thought you might need a little extra incentive to jog your memory. As I've previously stated, I'm not surprised that you've bagged this particular tiger. I'm sure his head will look lovely adorning your wall like all those who've come before. Ah, that fireside!_

_P.S. It's time you realized that you've been playing a very high stakes game of poker for most of your life. The cards are dealt and I only hope you haven't been bluffing._

_Yours Until Death,_

_Carl_


	15. Caught in a Web

The flight had been a long and exhausting one and Sebastian had never been happier to step onto solid ground, after all he'd seen and done in his life he still didn't particularly enjoy flying. Jim however appeared to be the picture of calm as they walked toward the idling black sedan. His eyes, which were hidden behind his dark aviators, Sebastian was sure were scanning the air strip continually. Aside from himself he had never known any person to be more alert and for some reason in the several weeks of their time together he seemed to have become even more vigilant.

The flight had been uneventful though, thankfully. Sebastian had spent most of it watching Jim and observing his mannerisms. It was an old habit from his boxing days and he found it difficult to break. He was always on the alert for his opponent's next move; he was capable of watching their footwork while never averting his focus from their upper body. If you allowed your attention to slip for even a second you left yourself wide open and vulnerable. He applied the same rules to his everyday life.

At one point during the flight though Jim had leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and captured his attention with his mysterious brown eyes. Sebastian wondered forcibly how many others had fallen prey to that cunning look. This man was beautiful he thought, not in a conventional way perhaps, but he was beautiful that was for damn sure.

Sebastian couldn't pin down the reason he felt this way but something deep down in the core of his body, where most people would probably assume was a soul, told him that he needed to be near this impossible man. He just knew, knew with every molecule in his body, that somehow his whole life had been a series of events propelling him toward Jim Moriarty. This was absurd, he thought.

He watched as the man sat across from him and eyed him as a spider would a fly and he felt a thrill, a dangerous electric current running through the air. He wondered how stupid a fly could be to fall for a spider. He smiled widely, accepting his fate.

"Sebastian, you've seemed unsettled for most of the day. Is anything wrong?"

"I don't particularly love flying but I survive. It's mostly a control issue for me. I've always felt that if I'm gonna die it'll be by my own hand and not some random chance of a pilot fuckin' up." He shrugged, "I'll be fine. You don't mind flying?"

Jim frowned slightly as he thought about it. "Nah, there are plenty of reasons to worry, my dear, flying isn't one of them."

He then sat back with an amused look and crossed his legs. "You know, I'm an observant man Sebastian. You never struck me as the type to be frightened to fly. I imagine there must be many more layers to you than I originally gave you credit for, _bravo_. Nothing bores me more than one dimensional people."

Sebastian grinned widely, this man was deliciously convoluted. He had visions of a very interesting few days ahead. Sebastian felt an insane urge to discover everything about this man, his past, his present and most importantly- his future. Jim had never taken his eyes from Sebastian's the entire time, oddly he found he didn't mind.

Now Sebastian leaned forward into Jim's space, resting his arms on his legs and letting his large hands dangle between his knees. He'd decided to take a chance. He figured the worst case scenario was not getting an answer.

"I know I've asked this before but I have yet to receive an answer."

Jim raised his eyebrows.

"Why me?"

Now the other man smiled widely, making him appear as innocent as a child who'd just snuck some candy before dinner. Sebastian had to physically resist the urge to reach out across the small space and touch him, feel him. He shook himself mentally, telling himself that he needed to stop this before it got out of hand.

Jim gently pressed his manicured hands together and brought the tips of his fingers to lightly rest at his slightly parted lips drawing Sebastian's attention there. Just what he needed, a reason to look at the man's mouth.

"You've spent rather a large portion of your life in the boxing ring, you know a thing or two about strategy. Am I right?"

Sebastian nodded slowly letting Jim's words float pleasantly around them.

"You know your opponents strengths and weaknesses and you use those. You remember which man forgets to protect his right side and you pounce on that at each opportunity. You learn which fighter can't seem to keep his gloves up to protect his face, you waste no time exploiting that fact. You're an observer, you watch and you learn and you use your knowledge to calculate your next move. It's really quite evident that you live your life outside the ring by those very same rules, I find that admirable."

Sebastian was listening raptly not just to the words that were being spoken but to the ones between the lines as well. He was learning that fifty percent of what Jim spoke aloud was what he wanted you to hear, what you needed to hear was at least fifty percent cloaked in eloquent phrasing. The spider spun his web with magnificent agility and the fly could do nothing but watch with a sort of enraptured horror.

"Do you recall the fight a few years ago where the young heavyweight with a promising future went down in the first round, never to fight again?"

Sebastian nodded again, he hadn't been fighting at that time but he'd read the stories.

"Yeah, he was good, really talented kid and he would've definitely been in contention for the...title...which- which was held by...Torres. Your man." Sebastian finished slowly as comprehension dawned and he watched Jim's grin widen maliciously.

"You see Sebastian, I am a man who is accustomed to having things turn out favorably for me. Nothing is really impossible when you know how to take what it is you want." Sebastian mulled his words over and he saw where this was going, it was all as he had suspected at the time of that fight; admittedly he hadn't known Jim was behind it. It was all coming together bit by twisted bit.

Jim continued speaking now, his voice drawing Sebastian back. "Like you, I am an observer, I too watch and learn about those around me. I make it my job to know of each and every person's pressure points, everyone has someone they want to protect." He crinkled his nose disgustedly at the thought and Sebastian laughed.

"You're quite right, even when you think a person comes with no strings attached there's always at least one. I see what you're saying. I still don't see what you could require from me though, my skill set isn't exactly a hot commodity."

Jim looked nonchalant as he shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps I simply enjoy your company. Why do people get cats and dogs? Sometimes companionship is worth more than any particular set of skills."

Now Sebastian truly laughed, baring all his white teeth. "Is that what I am then? _A pet_?"

He continued laughing and Jim didn't respond he just watched him with an amused half grin. "I've been considered a lot worse so if I'm to be a 'pet' to anyone at least it's Jim Moriarty." He said when he'd finally composed himself though he still had to suppress a laugh here and there.

Jim continued watching him in that disconcerting and contradictorily pleasing way. He had then picked up his book which he had been reading and wasn't to be stirred again for the remainder of the flight, that was fine by Sebastian he had plenty to think about now anyway.

So now as they made their way through the insane mid town traffic toward their hotel he removed his sunglasses and looked pointedly at Jim. Since their little chat on the plane he'd had a few things nagging him. He wasn't so obtuse as to ask the really important things while in the back of a luxury car making it's halting way through Manhattan but he did at least want an answer to some of the less pressing matters.

"How long have you been observing me and how could I have never been aware?"

Jim smirked, lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, Sebastian. I've known and followed your career for many years. I said you were clever and shrewd but that doesn't mean I am less so. I feel certain that there's still a fair amount that I could teach you if I was of a mind." He chuckled.

Sebastian thought about that, so Jim had been watching his career for 'many years'? Well he did have that information tucked away from the photograph, he wondered if Jim had known of him from those days of boxing in that little underground club. He was saving that information for another time though so he didn't mention it.

A few more traffic laden minutes ticked by as they sat silently in the back of the luxury car watching the dirty New York streets go by. Sebastian decided to try his luck once more.

"Sporting investments.  Doesn't seem to be your brand on the surface, if I'm honest I find it shocking that you'd invest at all. May I ask what draws you?"

Jim turned and looked out his window, not answering right away and Sebastian wondered if he'd finally hit the limit of the man's patience. Just as he was about to concede that he had maybe stepped over the line Jim turned back to him removing his aviators.

"Do you enjoy art, Sebastian Moran?"

Sebastian thought about it for a moment. "Yes, I mean I'm not educated enough to the point that I'd be comfortable speaking about it but I do enjoy it, yes."

Jim licked his lips unconsciously before continuing and again Sebastian was watching with rapt attention and he could feel his palms getting damp. He rubbed them on his jeans hoping it was unnoticed, it wasn't.

"Sebastian, most people live in this world and they see nothing beyond their noses. The entire world is art in motion, if you know where to look that is. Athletes are artists to me, what they do, what you do, it's art." He shrugged and put his glasses back on. "I'm fortunate enough that my own particular brand of art, numbers, has helped me to become successful and I am able to spend my money on an art form that I dearly enjoy."

He had turned his head back toward the tinted window now and Sebastian was left looking at the back of his sleek, dark head and he felt that unmistakable urge to reach out to him, to try and uncover the enigma. He also was able to take the hint that question time was over for now. The rest of the ride passed in silence and Sebastian began feeling how very tired the trans Atlantic flight had left him.

When they mercifully reached the hotel and had stepped on to the curb Sebastian went to help the bellhop lift their luggage from the trunk. As he came back around and was tossing his leather messenger bag over his head he nearly ran head long into Jim who was standing in the middle of the side walk looking as though he'd just seen a ghost.

"Jesus Ch- Jim? You okay?"

He had no idea why but he suddenly felt on high alert, it was the same feeling he'd get when in the military in the middle of combat and he wasn't quite sure which direction the enemy would attack from. Even though he'd been a sharpshooter there was always a possibility of being attacked, it was war.

So, why did he feel this way now standing on a sidewalk in Manhattan? He looked all around at the hundreds of anonymous faces as they hurried past not even glancing in their direction. It had passed as quickly as it came on and Jim was moving toward the tall building and all he could do was glance once more all around and hurry to keep up. He followed Jim attentively to the concierge desk where they checked him in speedily, knowing who he was helped the process along. Sebastian was impressed with how few words were exchanged in the process.

As they stepped into the lift and Jim slipped his mobile back into his trouser pocket he looked over at Sebastian. "I always stay in the suite on the twenty first floor. There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I trust you don't mind?"

Sebastian shook his head."No, no of course not. I'm just pleased to be here."

Jim didn't respond, he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Sebastian was still concerned about the moment on the pavement. He didn't know nearly enough about James Moriarty to deduce what might've startled the man so, he had been certain until that point that he was positively unflappable. He assumed that Jim would confide in him if he thought there was anything he needed to know, he'd just have to wait and hope for the best.

They entered the suite and Sebastian had to restrain himself from whistling through his teeth. The place was nicer than his flat, than any flat he'd had over the years. There was a spacious sitting area with a small kitchenette to the left. A sleek fireplace was set into the far wall and there were doors on either side, he assumed they led to the bedrooms.

The bellhop arrived just a moment after them and took their luggage into their respective rooms. Sebastian didn't see Jim tip the young kid but he assumed that they were all well taken care of. The only way to get the kind of service that he received was by paying for it and fear, which he wasn't above using it seemed. Jim threw his aviators and a piece of paper down on the small table in the sitting area and hung his coat then disappeared through the door on the right of the fireplace.

Sebastian's gaze was drawn to the piece of paper which turned out to be an envelope, the same kind of envelope from his flat that night after the alley. He didn't pick it up but he saw a slanting scrawl across the front. It read:

_**James Moriarty** _

_**Please open immediately** _

Sebastian had never felt more fortunate to have flown on a private jet and being able to travel with his army issue pistol. He had a bad feeling about this, sometimes even the biggest spider encounters the bottom of a shoe.


	16. Predators

Jim was angry and annoyed. Something he couldn't describe was happening to him and he loathed the feeling of not knowing. His thoughts were wild and rampant and he felt almost the same as he had back in University when he'd first met Carl. He wasn't used to feeling so preyed upon, usually he was the predator and it made him antsy and unsettled and belatedly he realized that he'd thrown the envelope on the table in the sitting room where Sebastian was.

He composed his features into a perfect arrogant mask once more and went back out. Sebastian was dozing on the sofa by the window and it made Jim feel oddly happy, as happy as a man like him could ever be. He stood with his hands deep in his trouser pockets and looked at the man for a moment. He was struck yet again by how beautiful he was.

He was truly a work of art, even now he thought, as his head lolled back and made his Adam's apple prominent. His scruffy ginger beard only helped to draw attention to his strong jaw and chin. His nose was almost straight with just a small bump at the bridge where it had most likely been broken but that wasn't a fault. His smallish scar on his cheek and the one that split his right eyebrow were just added bonuses. All of those things however were nothing compared with his body.

Covered in various tattoos and sculpted as if from marble. It was evident that he took particular pride in his physique even if he wasn't in the same shape as he had been as a boxer. His t-shirt clung pleasantly to his formed chest and as he slept now it rode up just a bit revealing a hint of his perfect abs. The jeans he wore hugged his hips and thighs perfectly as they accented his strong lower body.

Jim sighed and grabbed the envelope from the table and went back to his room. He decided to shower before reading it; he felt a hollowness that he couldn't define at the thought of the envelope's contents. He wasn't prepared to see the new message especially after what he thought he saw down on the sidewalk outside of the hotel. None of this was supposed to be possible.

He stood in the shower with his eyes closed for a very long time just letting the steaming hot water run over his tense body and lost in thought. When he finally stepped out and stood naked in his bathroom he looked at his reflection in the floor length mirror and sighed. He ran a hand over his lightly scarred abdomen and the newest almost healed cut from a couple of weeks ago. He hadn't felt the urge since that night but suddenly he was overwhelmed by the desire to draw blood.

He had lived his life a certain way, his mask was always in place. No one got to him, _not ever_. Now, suddenly, someone was trying to play a game with him and he wasn't going to allow it. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back into the plush bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the envelope. He slit open the paper with his knife and tipped the contents onto his lap.

Again it contained a photo and a letter. This photo was very dear to him if he allowed himself to be honest. He gently caressed it, his fingers lingering over Carl's smiling visage.They had been together for nearly a year when this was taken. They were celebrating Christmas and it was the first time Jim had ever celebrated the occasion.

* * *

 

They had gone to stay at an inn in Dublin and this photo was snapped as they sat around pints in the pub. Carl had asked the barkeep to take it for them amidst Jim's half-hearted protests. Carl's hair was on the longer side and still damp in the picture. Jim remembered why and he felt an excitement course through his body.

They had been out in the frosty town for the morning and afternoon shopping and just generally enjoying the day which was something Jim almost never did. They'd unabashedly held hands not caring who saw and forgetting about the ridiculous law that made their relationship ' _inappropriate_ '. When they returned to the inn they'd planned to dine in the pub down stairs but Jim said he wasn't going anywhere without having a bath.

He hadn't intended for Carl to join him but he was quite pleased that he had. He smiled to himself now as he sat in his New York hotel room remembering it. He had just stepped into the hot water stream and was letting the water unfreeze his bones when he heard the door open. He rubbed the water from his eyes and as he opened them Carl was stepping into the shower and he grabbed Jim around his waist with one hand and cupped his arse with his other as he pulled him close to kiss.

Carl's lips were hungry and needing on his own, almost frantic. Jim had pulled away and he held Carl's face in his hands as Carl was continuing to try and pull him closer. He remembered wondering what was going on and why he was behaving this way but then Carl had succeeded in bringing their faces together again and all thought was halted.

As the water ran over them and they kissed intently Jim felt Carl's hand slide up from his waist where he'd been holding him tightly and move to his erection. Jim groaned against his mouth at the feeling. When he began moving his hand slowly up and down his length Jim shivered. The water was becoming a bit cooler now as the hot was running out but neither of them were that bothered by it.

Carl moved his head to the side and began kissing Jim's neck and ear and that was the point when Jim couldn't take it any longer. He brought his hands to Carl's waist now and firmly spun him so he was facing the shower wall and coaxed him to bend over slightly. Very slowly and with measured movements he leaned forward and kissed Carl's spine from his shoulder blades to his tail bone. When he finished he stood up and slid inside causing Carl to gasp loudly and tense up momentarily.

He then leaned all the way forward and put his hands on the shower wall around Carl and began thrusting. He moved methodically and continually for a full ten minutes and just as he was about to come he felt Carl's body moving beneath him as he began sliding his hand vigorously up and down his own erection. The two men came at almost the exact same moment and Jim felt as though his legs were going to give out as his whole body felt like jelly.

Finally when he'd pulled out and Carl stood and turned to kiss him sweetly they stood in the water for a few more minutes. Feeling completely satisfied they got out and toweled off. Then they dressed and went for dinner.

* * *

 

The reason they both looked so happy in this photo wasn't hard to discern. He wondered why this one was sent to him though. He didn't have to look any further than the accompanying letter to find out.

He picked it up now and unfolded it.

_Dearest Jim,_

_My love, this may be my fondest memory of our time together. After those few days I feared that I'd not be able to walk properly. Ah! The lust of young lovers. Do you imagine that our passion could still be as intense? I like to think it would be so. I pray that you recall our conversation over dinner that evening, we may have cause to visit that topic again, someday._

_Until We Meet Again,_

_Carl_

Jim shivered slightly. He did remember that conversation but he wondered who else would've known of it. Having been told earlier by an elderly couple who Jim would've dearly loved to skin that they were immoral and wrong and that they would most certainly spend eternity roasting in hell because of their relationship, their after dinner conversation turned to just that. What happened after death.

* * *

 

It hadn't been a pleasant conversation because their beliefs on the matter were so completely different. Jim didn't believe in anything really, he felt sure that he completely lacked anything even remotely resembling a soul. Carl had been brought up differently, both of his parents were deceased and he missed them dearly; he'd been raised to believe in a God and life after death. Jim uncaringly scoffed at his conviction.

As they picked at their dessert the topic wouldn't wear itself out. Carl put down his fork and leaned forward, "You are aware that the actual definition of 'faith' is belief that is not based on proof? You're so _clever_ , you must know that." He said scathingly.

Jim was toying with his Christmas pudding distractedly having no intention of actually eating it. He smirked at the table as he listened to Carl's latest remark.

"Yes, thank you for trying to enlighten me on the subject but I do indeed know the definition of the word 'faith'. You'll excuse me for being above such things however, I prefer to have all the information before allowing myself to be convinced. If you care to find out, pure, cold science can explain anything you might be unsure about."

The enraged look on Carl's face only caused Jim's grin to widen which helped to madden him even further. He seemed unable to even form words at this point and Jim gently laid his spoon on the dish and sat back leisurely.

* * *

 

He stood up from the end of the bed and went to get dressed in his suit for dinner that evening. He chuckled though at the memory of how Carl had been so angry with him afterwards that they hadn't spoken for the following few hours. It was fine by him though because he was able to catch up on some reading and Carl finally came round that night in bed. The man was unable to not be near him especially when they slept.

He hadn't thought of that conversation though for a good many years. It unsettled him that whomever was sending these would now bring it up. Once he was dressed, tie knotted perfectly, cuffs faultless and his favorite tie pin in place, he went back to the sitting room to find Sebastian.

The man was seated on the sofa now and was reading the day's _New York Times_. He was still dressed in his things from the flight but he looked more rested.

"Ah! Sebastian! It seems you've had a refreshing little nap. Feeling better?"

Sebastian put the paper aside and smiled. "Yes, much better thanks."

Jim clapped his hands together once, smiling widely. " _Very_ good! We'll be dining at nine at a place I frequent when I'm in the city. It's only two blocks from here and I'm sure you'll enjoy it, it's a Brazilian steak house."

Sebastian stood and stretched then, "Well, I'd better get showered then." He looked at his watch. "It's seven thirty now. I won't take long."

Jim watched him disappear into his room and he felt that now familiar urge to peel him back, layer by intricate layer. Something about that man just caused the alpha in Jim to rise up and it was never far below the surface anyway. He just felt the need to dominate that man in ways that he'd never done to another human before. He stretched his neck at the delicious thought and if anyone had been there they would've seen his dark eyes sparkle with anticipation.

For the moment this spider was simply enjoying spinning his web for a particular fly. All thoughts of the approaching threat were wiped from his mind. The Preying Mantis that had been stalking him of late could afford to wait a little longer while he ensured that his fly was snugly ensnared in his web and unable to avoid the inevitable pincers.


	17. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for my very dear friend, jessicadeva. I hope it's all you dreamt it would be!! XX

When Sebastian finished showering he stepped out and pulled on his dark jeans but decided to wait to put his shirt on until after he'd shaved. He wasn't a man who made it a point to enjoy many luxuries in life but one thing he took very seriously was shaving. He had an entire kit dedicated to the art and since he didn't shave regularly he didn't feel bad about wasting money on the items. His prized possession was his lethally sharp straight razor, the blade was kept so perfect that it glinted in the light and even the merest slip of a hand could cause devastation.

He sat in front of the mirror at the bathroom vanity and looked at his reflection for just a moment as he held the shaving creme in his hand, halfway to his face. He realized he was beginning to look closer to forty than thirty. His cold, grey eyes were tired and he was sure that the lines around them just kept getting deeper. The lines in his forehead were not helping matters either in his opinion. He remembered the last time he saw Andy and wondered if she'd even recognize him now.

* * *

She had been so angry with him when they'd last said good bye, her green eyes filled with unshed tears and it still caused him to feel sick when he thought of it. She had begun seeing a guy, Mark, after their one night together and Sebastian was at his lowest. He'd go for days on end without leaving his flat or talking to anyone. When she told him of the new boyfriend he wasn't angry as much as he was simply defeated. He'd agreed to meet him though, for Andy's sake.

He immediately thought he was nothing but an arrogant prick who tried to tell Andy what to do and how to dress and wear her hair. Sebastian wanted deeply to knock the guy out or worse.  He was tall and dark haired, good looking and had a good job apparently. He was a journalist and did well in their small town, so well in fact that he'd been offered a job in London working for the The Times. Andy had been with him for a few months when he received the job offer and he'd asked her to go with him.

She showed up at Sebastian's flat unannounced one day and he was surprised. He'd been lounging listlessly on the sofa wearing just his jeans from the day before and no shirt and he hadn't shaved in at least three days. She knocked once and then entered without waiting for an invitation. She had to stand for a minute and let her eyes adjust to the dimness of his flat as the windows were all closed up tightly. When her eyes fell on him where he lounged on the sofa she smiled uncertainly, almost shyly. He remembered thinking how like a stranger she was at that moment. Her long auburn hair hanging softly around her face, her hands tucked into the pockets of her fitted jeans; it was almost as though neither of them knew the other and that broke him more than anything else.

"Bastian, get your lazy arse up!" She joked but it fell flat as he sat up unable even to smile at her.

He then stood and gestured her to come in and have a seat. She shook her head while looking at her feet.

"I can't stay Bastian. I've just-um...I've some news. Thought-maybe you'd...wanna hear.."

"Oh? What is it then?" He asked as he looked around for a t-shirt.

She seemed to not want to meet his eyes so she continued to look at her feet as she spoke. He'd found an old shirt and he just stood looking at her without putting it on. She hesitated a bit longer, biting her lip. Finally she looked at him properly and he felt his stomach turn to lead. He had suspected that something was going to happen and it was only a matter of time but he had successfully convinced himself that everything was the same as always. He'd been ignorantly blind.

"I'm...uh-I'm moving, Bastian, to London."

She obviously wanted to look away from his icy gaze but she held her ground admirably. He was unable to even process what she was saying for a full five minutes.

"You're...moving? What? Why? Why London? Why now?"

He asked when his brain had unfrozen and he took a few steps toward her. Whatever she saw on his face caused her to back away a step and that cut him deeper than any words could ever have. The fact that she thought for even a second that he'd ever lay a hand on her hurt him in a place he hadn't known existed. He had unconsciously crumpled his shirt into a ball in his hands.

"I _have_ to go Bastian. I have to get out of here. You know that, please don't pretend that you don't. Don't make this about you, I can't do...this. I'm...sor- no, I'm not going to apologize."

He moved forward again and thankfully she didn't back away this time. He now stood just a foot or so in front of her and lifted her head to look him directly in the eyes. He could see the moisture there that she was trying desperately to hold in check.

" _JESUS CHRIST_! Bastian, you don't get to do this to me! You don't, this isn't your call."

"He's an arsehole Andy. Who'll be there for you in London? Who'll take care of you when he doesn't?"

She then backed up a step and slapped him on his face so hard that a hand shaped welt appeared almost instantly. He'd brought his hand up to rub the place where she'd hit him.

"Don't you fuckin' dare, don't you even-just fuckin' don't! How dare you? Who do ya think took care of me when you were gone off fighting and fucking half the world? Who the hell do ya think took care of me when you decided to run away from your problems and join the fuckin' military? Don't. Just fuckin' don't. I don't need ya Sebastian, I haven't needed ya in a long time."

The heat with which she had begun had gone out of her now and she looked so much smaller standing there. He stepped forward then and took her face in his hands, he gazed into her watery eyes momentarily then he kissed her. His lips crushing hers, he could feel his heart physically breaking as she kissed him back. She brought her hands up to hold on tightly to his hair. It felt like that first time and he wanted nothing more than to forget that it wasn't the first time, it was the last. He'd never have this chance again and that thought made him step closer and put a hand at her waist to pull her in. It felt like an eternity had passed yet at the very same time it felt as though no time had passed at all. He let her go then, physically and mentally. He stepped away and smiled sadly at her.

"Good luck Andrea."

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. "This is it then Sebastian. Don't contact me again, alright?"

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks. Really, I-I mean it, you saved my life more times than it was worth."

She only stood for a second longer before turning to go, she hesitated at the doorway then. Turning to look at his blank face she said, "I did love you, ya know that? You were just always a day late."

"I know." He replied then with a small, sad smile then she was gone from his life.

He'd destroyed his flat that day, smashing anything he put his hands on, tearing any pictures he had of the two of them. He'd even punched a hole in his wall until at last he'd opened a bottle of Jameson, their favorite, and drank nearly the whole thing. He never shed a tear though, what good would it do anyway he wondered.

* * *

 

He looked down at his hand now that held the shaving creme and he turned it over to look at the faint scar on his knuckles that he'd wound up with as his only memento of Andy. He chuckled as he thought he probably should've had it stitched after putting it through the dry-wall and connecting with a stud on the other side. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he looked back up into the mirror and Jim was leaning against the door frame watching him silently with his arms crossed over his chest.

The look on his face was difficult to read and Sebastian was thoroughly unnerved that he hadn't heard him approach. A knowing grin spread slowly across the man's face, his eyes twinkling. Sebastian's hackles were instantly up, he could feel the hair at the nape of his neck standing on end as Jim pushed away from the wall and came to stand directly behind him. He placed his cold, pale hands on Sebastian's bare shoulders and leaned closer allowing Sebastian to inhale the slightly spicy scent of him. He could feel an electrical pulse in his extremities and he found himself oddly hoping that he wouldn't remove his hands.

He asked himself for probably the hundredth time why he was so addicted to the danger and the thrill of the unknown that this man offered him. He sat stock still waiting to see what Jim was going to do next. He brought his left hand up and used the back of it to caress Sebastian's scruffy jaw letting the fingertips trail away slowly and making Sebastian's skin hot in their wake. He almost imagined that he could still feel them. Jim's sharp eyes flicked to the open leather case that held his treasured shaving items.

"I do _so_ enjoy a man who knows how to shave properly."

He spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper but to Sebastian's heightened senses he felt as though he'd shouted the words as the syllables reverberated in his skull pleasantly. He felt drugged. He licked his dry lips. Jim went on in that same low, seductive voice that just continued to hold Sebastian captive. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to; he needed, with every fiber of his being, to hear what Jim was going to say next. He needed it more than the air he breathed and he didn't care about the cost.

"It's a lost art, proper shaving. There was a time when every man took great pride in their appearance. They would go to their local barber and have a hot towel shave and their hair trimmed and coiffed."

He leaned forward to reach for the creme and brush, his front pressing against Sebastian's back. He looked up into the mirror catching Sebastian's eye as he stood straight once again.

Holding up the brush he asked, "May I?"

Sebastian swallowed hard and nodded. He was so tangled in this sticky web that he would've probably agreed to almost anything in that moment. Jim took the brush and, relieving Sebastian of the open canister of creme that he'd been absently holding for the past minutes, swiped it across the expensive white substance a few times, producing a nice frothy lather. Sebastian felt numb at where he feared and hoped this was going. _God, he was fucked up_ he thought to himself.

His keen eyes followed Jim's movements astutely; he felt as if he was positively vibrating with anticipation. Jim looked back up, a coy smile on his lips, and he gently brushed the white shaving creme over Sebastian's neck, jaw and cheeks. He made sure to not leave any skin uncovered. When he'd finished that he placed the utensils back on the vanity and he picked it up, the straight razor. Sebastian shivered involuntarily as he watched Jim hold it at eye level, inspecting it. Something glinted in Jim's eyes and Sebastian was sure it had nothing to do with the metal reflecting in those dark pools and had everything to do with the surgically sharp blade he held.

"Oh, I see that you take pride in your things, especially this blade. How very... _telling_. A blade says a lot about a man, I don't care if it's a proper knife or simply a razor blade. How a man treats any weapon can tell you all you need to know about him, wouldn't you agree?"

Sebastian nodded silently again as Jim stood behind him once more and used his right hand to tip his head up to give better access to his throat. His left hand placed the icy cold blade gently below his Adam's apple. Sebastian wanted to shiver again but he wasn't stupid, one wrong move here and he was dead. If he was honest he wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't end up that way anyway.

"I don't want to kill you Sebastian. Not yet at least, perhaps not ever but I try not to make promises."

Sebastian's palms were getting sweaty but he kept his face impassive as Jim held him there.

"You've taken lives, in war, on the street. To me the art of ending a life is more intimate than exploring a lover's body. The idea of taking a life is more romantic, more erotic than sharing a passionate kiss with a newly returned lover. Life is fragile, so incredibly delicate. There are only a handful of men capable of handling it with care. I flatter myself that I am one."

He smoothly and slowly dragged the blade up to Sebastian's chin then he leaned forward again to wipe it on a towel that he'd put on Sebastian's thigh, very near his crotch. Sebastian took the opportunity to breathe properly. Jim was standing straight and tipping his head once more as he placed the blade right near the place he had begun. Jim was speaking again, his voice near his right ear as he leaned a bit forward to see better what he was doing.

"D'you think me a mad man Sebastian? Well, no matter. Most people do. My methods are unconventional but I've found they work well. Men and women both respect and fear me. What I find odd about you though is that you are obviously stronger than me yet here you sit motionless allowing me to wield this sharp blade so very near your windpipe."

He had slid the blade up two more times and leaned forward to wipe the creme on Sebastian's leg sending chills through his whole body. Now Jim came round to stand in from of him in order to have easier access to his cheeks and jaw. He used his one hand to hold Sebastian's face steady while he slowly and methodically dragged the razor over his sharply chiseled jaw bone. It was a far more erotic experience than Sebastian would've liked to admit.

"What is it Sebastian? What about me makes you forget who you are? Can you pin it down?"

He leaned in wiping the blade again.

"I didn't think so."

He slid the blade down one final time and then he stood between Sebastian's splayed legs and looked at him, a weird little smile quirking his lips, his eyes as black as the pits of hell.

"Together, you and I may have quite a bright future. Are you strong enough? Can you stand by my side and do what is needed?"

Sebastian finally was able to let his coiled muscles relax and he looked up in to that enigmatic, terrifying, beautiful face and he smiled widely. He made sure to bare all his teeth and he knew he looked somewhere between menacing and insane, perhaps that's exactly what he was.

He stood up abruptly then, the towel falling to the floor and causing Jim to take a hesitant step backward bumping slightly into the vanity, that was Sebastian's victory in this round he thought. He put one large hand at Jim's waist and pulled him in so that his perfectly suit clad body was pressed against Sebastian's naked torso.

He put his clean shaven face right at Jim's ear and murmured, "I've been prepared to do what I must since MacArthur's, love."

Jim's eyes flashed angrily but he didn't have much time to protest as Sebastian startled him even further and brought their lips together. Sebastian felt like he was melting, he hadn't know how badly he'd wanted and needed this. He had no idea that Jim Moriarty was the puzzle piece that he'd been missing for his entire life but listening to him tonight as he shaved him and revealed just a glimpse of who he was, it all became clear.

He had no idea where this rabbit hole was going to take him but neither had Alice he mused. He was going to follow the white rabbit and hopefully not end by losing his head to the Red Queen. He was willing to risk it though. Some things in life were worth your own life and he now saw that Jim was one of those things.


	18. The Fighter

The following day, the day of the boxing match, Jim noticed a difference in Sebastian's attitude. He seemed wary, he was clever and he knew-now more than ever-that Jim was a force of nature, but he also seemed changed...softened in some way that he found hard to describe. It was almost as though after last night he'd finally, truly accepted his fate and, being a man of strong principal, when he made a decision he followed it through to the bitter end.

Jim was very pleased that he'd been able to finally bag this tiger after no less than nearly fourteen years of hunting and stalking him. He was quite the trophy and his pelt was worth a fortune.  Perhaps one day he'd adorn his wall quite nicely indeed.

When Jim came into the sitting area he found Sebastian at the small kitchenette table having some toast and coffee. The hotel always made sure to have the place well stocked when Jim visited, he paid enough for the room it was the very least they could do. Sebastian looked up from the _Wall Street Journal_ that he'd been reading and grinned.

"G'morning. Coffee?"

Jim wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Feel free to clog your own system with that detestable liquid. I don't take breakfast."

Sebastian ignored the comment about the coffee and continued to drink his while keeping a vigilant eye on Jim. He went and sat at the table near Sebastian and pulled the _New_ _York_ _Times_ toward him. He read it in silence for a few minutes and then when he couldn't ignore Sebastian's gaze any longer he folded it and placed it on the table with a huff.

"What is it Sebastian?"

Sebastian sipped his black coffee silently for a minute and then, setting the cup on the table, he eyed Jim with interest. 

"Why have I never met you until just a few weeks ago? Our paths have been intersecting for years."

Jim's face was impassive but his eyes were twinkling with delight as he observed Sebastian.

"Come on Sebastian." He said as he tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Not a soul on this earth can make me do a thing I don't want. I was simply waiting for the right time."

Sebastian smirked. "Yeah? What makes now the right time then?"

His grey eyes were as cold as metal as he surveyed Jim's features, hungrily devouring any tid-bit that he allowed to show on his face. Jim answered in a preoccupied tone,

"Distractions."

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up, Sebastian did the same. Although he was a good five inches taller than Jim by no means did he come close to intimidating him. Jim watched him for just a few moments longer then he placed his hand on the man's firm bicep and he smiled, mostly to himself.

"Yes, distractions. Don't forget my dear, the fight begins at eight. I'll see you then."

* * *

 

That night they left The Ritz around seven thirty to get to the fight in time. Jim was dressed, as always, in a perfect suit. The suit was dark and he wore a light, lavender colored shirt with a dark tie and silver tie pin. His black shoes were polished to a high shine and his hair was combed flawlessly into place. He exuded power from every single pore and it wasn't hard to understand why everyone around him did his bidding with no more than a simple snap of his manicured fingers. It was also easy to see how enamored Sebastian was of him, he could hardly tear his eyes away.

Sebastian, for his part, was wearing dark, well tailored trousers with a light colored button up shirt that hugged his toned form and left little to the imagination. The dark belt he wore drew attention to his slim waist enjoyably making everyone wonder how he could even be real with his physique. He didn't wear a tie though, they weren't really his thing. He'd chosen to skip the shave today also so his jaw was a bit scruffy. His grey eyes glinted with something indiscernible to Jim; he told himself that he'd discover it soon.

As their black luxury sedan pulled in front of The Garden Jim became immediately alert, there were hundreds of people milling around trying to decide whether they should go to will call or if they were even in the right location.  Parents chased after their children, lovers held hands while a few tough guys pretended they were important. Jim snorted at the plainness of all these ordinary people.

As they stepped out he was internally pleased to find Sebastian had materialized at his right hand side; he was so close that his shoulder kept rubbing Jim's. He smirked and glanced at him, Sebastian's face was stony. As they made their way inside Jim returned to looking around diligently, on the look out for any familiar face that he did not wish to see.

They made it to their ringside seats without incident where they had a bird's eye view of the blood and sweat that would come from the fighters. They were seated comfortably and served drinks which Jim declined but Sebastian did not. The first few fights were uninteresting and ended with very little fan fare after the fighters had been told off several times each for hugging one another too long.

Jim watched amusedly as Sebastian sat rolling his eyes and throwing his hands in the air as the sub par fighters shuffled around the ring. That was what the sport had turned into though, fighters with very little talent just trying to wear one another down and win on points. It frustrated Jim too but he enjoyed watching Sebastian's agitation.

Finally the Martinez/Campbell fight was announced and Jim watched as Sebastian sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes. Once the fight began Jim couldn't care less about the fighters in the ring; his attention was only for the man sitting beside him. Sebastian's muscles had tensed visibly and his jaw was clenched tightly, a muscle twitching. His eyes were focused sharply on the two men fighting and he'd balled his hands into fists. He seemed to be moving in time with the fighters, his broad shoulders twitching as he mimicked the moves he would evidently use if it were he in that ring.

Jim realized he was still potentially a champion fighter and he could see it was in the man's blood; he obviously longed to be in that ring fighting. A vein was visible in his neck and he had to forcibly restrain himself from reaching out and caressing it. He watched as Sebastian was muttering under his breath in frustration. He was obviously egging Campbell on, saying things like, "C'mon! He never protects his right. Get a body shot in there!"

Jim savored every second of this like a forbidden sweet. As Sebastian leaned forward and the fabric of his shirt stretched across his broad back Jim took the opportunity to admire him yet again. He thought back to those days in Ireland and watching him now he could almost pretend that all those years hadn't passed and he was the same man he was then. In reality though none of them were the same as they had been. Feeling irritated at himself yet again he tore his gaze away from the beautiful man next to him and scanned the faces of the crowd.

As he glanced to his right and several rows back he felt a jolt like lightning striking. The tall, lovely, statuesque man with light, ash blonde hair and cold, icy blue eyes that were evident even at this distance was staring directly at him. Jim turned his head back to Sebastian for a split second and when he turned back around the man was nowhere to be seen. He blinked rapidly a few times as though trying to clear his vision and then he looked around, there was no sign that he'd ever existed.

Sebastian was still watching the fight intently and sitting on the edge of his seat as Campbell finally got inside and delivered a volley of body shots and then ended it with one solid hit under his chin that caused Martinez to go down hard and not get back up even after the count.

"Sorry." Sebastian said as he looked sideways at Jim and did a double take.

"Hmm?" Was all Jim responded while still looking around.

"Your guy, Martinez, he just hit the mat..." His eyes were questioning.

"Oh. He's not very good, is he?  Come on, we're leaving."

"But-we haven't- the main event?"

Jim stood and stretched. "I'm bored. Let's go"

Jim didn't wait for a response he just stood and turned to leave, of course he knew that Sebastian would follow him. The ride back to the hotel was silent and Jim could feel Sebastian's eyes boring into him the whole time. The man obviously had a million questions, they were written all over his features but Jim wasn't having a discussion about it right now, maybe not ever.

When they reached The Ritz Jim jumped out almost before the car had completely stopped and Sebastian was right on his heels. The second that the lift doors closed Sebastian turned to face him, apparently he wasn't going to be ignored. Jim still didn't meet his eyes however.

"Jim, what the fuck was that about? You brought me here to look at the challenger in the big fight. I can't well do that if I'm not at the fight, can I?"

Jim smirked, "Perceptive."

Sebastian was now becoming visibly angry. He kept clenching his hands into fists at his side and Jim's smirk widened.

"Jesus Christ, Jim if there is something fucked up going on here at least clue me in."

Jim turned to face him and hit the stop button as he did so. He captured his eyes with his own, holding Sebastian firmly in check with no more than a look. Stepping forward so that there was almost no space between their chests he looked up into the other man's face.

"Tell me, my dear, if I were to supply you with some-ah... _information_ \- and it was indeed ' _fucked up_ ' to use your less than eloquent phrasing, would you still stay? Do you know at which point your tolerance for the unusual might snap? I don't."

Sebastian's face was admirably blank as he took the tiny step to close the minimal distance.

"I've passed that point a very long time ago. Try me."

Jim's face split into a wide grin and he blinked several times and looked at Sebastian as if he was just now seeing the man truly. He put one hand on the man's broad chest, feeling the taught muscle beneath the fabric. His skin was so warm and alive in contrast with Jim who was always so icily, deadly cold.

_"Very good."_

He stared into Sebastian's face for just a little longer then he looked over his shoulder and hit the button on the panel to cause the lift to continue to ascend. He dug his hands deeply into his trouser pockets and didn't say another word to Sebastian.  He tried with all his might to forget the specter from earlier but it was proving to be difficult.  He'd most certainly need a distraction tonight and he felt positive that the angry man standing beside him would prove quite useful. Quite useful indeed.


	19. Tiger Stripes

When they reached their floor and stepped out he could feel that Sebastian hadn't stopped staring at him and he relished in the feeling. He enjoyed being the center of this man's attention. It's not like he was ever ignored or that he wasn't waited on hand and foot but that was different, those were ordinary people. He thrilled at being this man's universe because Sebastian wasn't like anyone else, he was a crouching tiger and he was difficult to control, luckily Jim knew precisely how to handle him.

Once inside the room Jim went to the small desk in the corner of the sitting area and picked up the envelope he'd received earlier in the day. He was beginning to wonder if he had made a fatal error all those years ago; he'd been so young and cocksure that it was possible he hadn't tied up all loose ends.

He could hear Sebastian in the kitchenette clinking glasses but he didn't turn around to see what he was up to. He stood looking down at the unopened envelope a while longer when he became aware that Sebastian was standing immediately behind him. He was so close that Jim could feel his warm breath on the hairs at his nape. He then leaned closer, his hard chest gently pressing against Jim's back as he set a glass filled with amber colored liquid on the desk.

"If you're not going to tell me what's going on then the least you can do is have a drink with me."

Jim smirked and then felt a draft as Sebastian had turned and went to lounge on the sofa with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He only hesitated a second longer then he picked up the glass and sniffed the contents. He left the envelope for later.

Turning to Sebastian he said, "You've gone and bought Jameson? I'd have been more than happy to buy something better, we're not poor boys in Ireland any longer."

Sebastian's face was impassive as he shrugged. "It's not about the money, I've had some whisky that cost more than rent I've paid and they were shit. I like Jameson."

He then swallowed the small amount left in his glass as if to prove it. Jim shook his head and sipped his own drink, he'd never admit it aloud but he did enjoy the taste of Jameson. He grabbed the bottle from the counter and brought it to Sebastian on the sofa and handed it to him as he unbuttoned his suit coat and sat.

They drank in companionable silence for a bit then Sebastian turned so he was facing Jim, evidently he still had a lot on his mind. Jim chuckled at the stubbornness of the man, he guessed it was in his Irish nature.

Jim, however, spoke before Sebastian had a chance which visibly irked him. "Sebastian, can you think of a particular moment in your life when you felt so alive and everything seemed vivid and as if the world were made specifically for you?"

He licked his lips then effectively drawing Sebastian's attention there. He felt that blissful heightened sense of awareness as he regarded the man. He could imagine that he could feel his blood pulsing through his veins and he watched as that beautiful artery became noticeable in the other's neck. This was turning into a most enjoyable evening indeed he thought.

Sebastian now sat forward a bit and cradling his glass delicately in his large hands his gaze seemed distant. It seemed as if he were not sitting here in this hotel room in 2014 but was somewhere else, a different moment in time. Finally he looked up from under his unnaturally long lashes and his face split into a mischievous grin.

"Nah, not really. Why d'you ask?"

He then drank down the entire contents of his second glass and Jim wondered if it was a defense mechanism for the man. Get drunk enough and some problems cease to exist. He supposed it was effective.

Jim set his empty glass down, out of reach, he didn't fancy a refill. He stood and removed his jacket and as his back was turned he slipped his hand in his pocket and shivered as his hand closed over the knife. He closed his eyes momentarily then turned back to see Sebastian lounging with his feet up on the sofa and sipping his third tumbler of whisky. _Perfect_.

He sauntered back to the sofa and he stood looking down at Sebastian, his hands in his pockets and he enjoyed the way the man couldn't help but flick his gaze to the front of his trousers. It was an admittedly unfair advantage but Jim Moriarty never played fair before, why start now? When he spoke his voice was velvety soft with a slightly dangerous edge which was not lost on Sebastian.

"There've been a few moments in my life, Sebastian, when I've felt as though I was the king." He smirked. "I possess the means to show you how it feels. D'you want to find out?"

Sebastian's expression had changed from haughty and arrogant to heated and spellbound with lightning speed. Jim took the opportunity to gently run his hand from Sebastian's knee where he had it propped against the cushion and all the way, slowly, to his inner thigh where he let his fingers linger deviously just near the man's groin. He could feel the heat coming from his skin even through the expensive fabric of his trousers. Jim watched as he worked it all out in his head, he imagined it must be a bit hazy at the moment considering all the whisky he'd consumed.

Finally, Sebastian scooted himself up so he was in more of a sitting position and was less vulnerable. His grey eyes were no longer as cold as they usually were, instead they were inviting, almost pleading. Jim could feel his own heart rate increasing.

"Go on then, show me." Sebastian paused and set his empty glass on the side table then he said with an edge to his voice, "I dare you."

"Oh, good choice my dear, _very good_."

He could feel the electricity in the air as the moment vibrated around them. Jim was a force to be reckoned with but he was learning rather quickly that Sebastian was no less of a force. Jim cast him his most wicked smile and leaned down so his mouth was right at Sebastian's ear while his hands went to the buttons of his shirt, deftly undoing them. His cold fingers brushed his overheated skin and he enjoyed the goose pimples that he caused. He whispered in his ear then, his voice a low purr that made Sebastian close his eyes indulgently.

"Are ya ready for this Sebastian? D'you think you're truly ready?"

He had finished undoing his shirt buttons and had slid it slowly back over his defined muscular shoulders and then slid it down his arms and over his large hands. He made sure to drag his fingers tantalizingly over the prominent veins that ran down his tattooed arms. He was standing between Sebastian's legs and he took his shirt and threw it on the floor then he brought his nimble hands up to rest on the broad shoulders while he looked curiously at the man below him.

Pleasantly Sebastian's eyes were still hungry and needing and Jim wasted no time in pressing his advantage. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Sebastian's but it wasn't like the night before, it wasn't Sebastian dominating him or asserting his position. It was Jim asserting _his_ position as the alpha from the way he stood above the man to the way that he held him firmly in place with the lightest touch. Sebastian had silently conceded the role to Jim and he didn't seem all that chuffed by it.

Jim lightly dragged his fingers up to the nape of his neck and held his head firmly in place while he used his tongue to slowly explore Sebastian's mouth, hinting at the things that were possible, things that he could do. He moved back then and trailed his fingers tenderly across his chest as it rose and fell rapidly with his hurried breathing. He then leisurely slid his hand to the pocket of his trousers again and he slid the knife out and snapped it open. He paused only when he heard a sharp intake of breath from the other man.

"Not frightened are ya Sebastian?"  He asked, drawing out the syllables of the man's name seductively.

"Mmmm." Sebastian responded but he didn't take his eyes from the cold knife in his hand.

Jim then shoved him gently back as he sank to his knees in front of him. He put the blade of the knife steadily between his teeth in order to free his hands. He knelt on the floor watching the rise and fall of Sebastian's chest as he slid his hands up his thighs to stop at his groin where he could feel the taut fabric and the rock hard erection beneath. He unzipped his trousers and then, with deliberation, slipped them down over his slim hips along with his pants. He was left wearing nothing but his ego and a tiny smirk.

He took the knife out then and as light as a feather trailed it across Sebastian's abdomen not even breaking skin but insuring his undivided attention. Jim then slid his left hand up to grip him firmly by his shaft and he moved his hand slowly up and down it a few times before leaning forward and gently licking the head. He looked up to see Sebastian biting his lip.

That was when he brought the knife to rest coldly on his upper thigh. He laid it there with the point toward his groin but resting harmlessly on it's side. He then took Sebastian all the way into his mouth, to the back of his throat eliciting an audible gasp followed by a shiver. He did this a few times consecutively and then he straightened up a bit and took the knife back in his hand.

Sebastian's eyes were positively begging for him to continue but the man didn't move, he knew better already. Jim then lazily took the point of the knife and dragged it lightly up his torso without adding any pressure and leaned forward so he was able to reach his chest. He then ran his chilly hand lovingly across the hard muscles.

"You don't fear pain, do you?" Jim smiled. "Nah, I didn't think so, _my pet_."

With that he slowly pressed the blade into he skin on his right pectoral and dragged it down about two inches diagonally. When he first pierced the skin Sebastian shouted out but quickly bit his lip to quiet himself. He didn't cut him deeply at all, in fact it was quite superficial but Jim felt as though he were on a drug at the sight of the seeping blood. He brought his right hand up to smear the sticky crimson and he shuddered.

"It's amazing." He muttered, almost to himself. "Even the most ordinary of people have the same substance flowing through their veins. Those of us who're above the rest still bleed identically."

With that he repeated the cut three times under the first one giving the illusion of stripes. They would serve as a reminder to Sebastian so he'd never forget who he belonged to. He sat back then and admired his work feeling a little light headed. He leaned in then and licked his chest once and then worked his way back to his hard-on.

Just before he dipped his head and took Sebastian's whole cock into his mouth he looked up and said, "Its okay, if I'd wanted to kill you I would've done it already. I don't play with my food."

Then he dipped his head and, while gripping him with his left hand, he took the whole thing in his mouth. He kept the knife firmly in his right hand wanting to keep Sebastian just a little unnerved while he sucked vigorously. He licked the hot and sensitive skin of Sebastian's cock making him groan and lift his hips from the sofa while still keeping an eye on the knife.

Jim felt like a God, it was the most erotic thing for him to cause a man like Sebastian to submit. He sucked a few more times until he could feel the man trembling as he came, his chest heaving. Jim then sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth slowly with his hand then he went and kissed Sebastian fully on his mouth and he knew that this man was his, now and forever.

When he pulled away he gently caressed the puckered skin on his chest that now served as his tiger stripes. He turned and went to refill his empty whisky tumbler, Sebastian seemed momentarily unable to move.

As Jim went back to the desk and picked up the envelope he could hear Sebastian getting up from the sofa. He then heard him refill his glass and it sounded as though he went in the direction of his room. Jim looked over his shoulder then just to be sure. When he was satisfied that Sebastian had indeed left he decided to slit open the paper.

He tipped a photograph and a letter on to the desk. Setting down his glass he picked up the photograph. He was surprised. It showed a younger Sebastian having his dick sucked by a fair haired, scrawny guy in some darkened alley. Jim inspected the picture minutely trying to identify the place but he couldn't.

He picked up the letter and unfolded it.

It read simply:

_I'd keep your pet tiger on a short leash if I were you._

He was lost in thought for so long that he was startled when he heard a noise behind him, he'd forgotten that Sebastian was even in the same hotel. He turned, quickly stuffing the letter and photo back in the envelope and pocketing it. Sebastian's hair was still a little damp and he was wearing dark blue sweats and no shirt and he'd decided to forgo bandaging his stripes.

He didn't seem able to quite meet Jim's eye at first but then something must've encouraged him because he looked up and grinned. Jim smiled tightly back. He was on edge and he needed to get out of this room before Sebastian saw it. He pushed away from the desk and breezed past Sebastian without so much as a word. He didn't miss the look of confusion on the other's face but he didn't really have time to care.

In the solitude of his room he stripped methodically and then laid on top of the duvet. He wasn't really surprised by the contents of the photo; he knew Sebastian's past and he knew that he'd seen and done quite a bit in his time and most of it highly questionable. What was bothering him was the timing of the letter, whoever this was was obviously keeping very close tabs and it made him uneasy to think about. He began dozing then telling himself that he'd deal with it in the morning. He'd learned long ago that it didn't do to dwell on problems in the absolute darkness of a starless night.


	20. Death Sentence

Sebastian stood with his back to the shower head and let the scalding water run down with his eyes closed. He hoped that it would help him gain some clarity and figure out what the fuck was going on. It wasn't the blow job that confused him, it was hardly the first time a man had done that for him although he felt it only fair to admit that it _was_ the best.

It was Jim. He simply couldn't figure him out. He had known coming in to this... _whatever it was_... that Jim was far from normal but he felt he was just now getting a glimpse of exactly how bizarre this world was. His head was spinning from the combination of adrenaline and whisky in his system and he had to put a hand on the shower wall to steady himself.

Finally after about ten minutes he soaped up his hair and body, wincing as he ran a hand over his chest. He looked at the cuts in the mirror as he stepped from the shower. They were not deep at all but the skin was red and puckered and beginning to scab in some spots. He wondered idly whether they would scar.

As he looked at his reflection he smiled tiredly and wondered why he was so cosmically attracted to this man, this man who willfully cut him with the intention of seeing him bleed. This man who had admittedly killed and aided or ordered God knows how many other murders.

He ran a large hand through his wet hair splashing loose drops on to the mirror. He grabbed his blue sweatpants and dragged them lazily on and went back to the main room. He wondered whether Jim would still be awake, he was. When Sebastian entered the room he saw the man standing with his back to him at the desk. He'd obviously heard Sebastian enter and he shuffled some papers and shoved them hastily in his pocket as he turned.

Sebastian wasn't quite sure where to look at first but then he took a deep, centering breath and smiled. Jim smiled back without much enthusiasm and pushed his way past without uttering a single syllable. Sebastian found himself even more confused and he flopped down on the small sofa staring blankly at the wall. He sat there in the darkness for a while then just thinking.

He knew he was a fuck up, he had a full history proving this and he took full responsibility. He hated nothing more than a person feeling sorry for themselves and saying that they were just unlucky or trying to say it was everyone else at fault. He didn't buy that bullshit, he believed everyone was responsible for their own destiny or, at least he used to. He now found himself wondering how long Jim had had a twisted little finger in his particular pie.

Finally he rubbed his tired eyes vigorously and stood to go to bed but first he decided that he would just see if Jim was awake. Silently he padded to the room and gently pushed open the door. It was complete darkness except for the neon glow of the alarm clock which cast an eerie glow on Jim's pale, porcelain-like face. He admired him for a minute and he felt this ridiculous urge to wake him and hold him closely. As he slept he looked so vulnerable, naked and much smaller than his personality would have anyone believe.

Sebastian noticed faint scars on several parts of his abdomen and the back of his calves. The implication hit him like a ton of bricks, Jim cut himself too, he didn't just have the need to hurt others. He shook his head in agitation. He needed psychiatric help he decided but he also realized that it would do very little to convince him to stay away from this complicated man.

As he was turning to leave he saw an opened envelope on the bed next to Jim's hand. He hesitated knowing that he should just leave it but he desperately wanted some answers starting with what tonight was all about.

A second later he decided that he'd done things far dumber than this so he went and picked it up. Jim stirred slightly as the paper crinkled and Sebastian held his breath but he just rolled over and continued to sleep. He went back out into the main room and he pulled out the photograph as he walked, thankfully he was standing just near the armchair because when he looked at the picture his legs became weak and he sank to the chair.

He remembered this photo, he remembered it all vividly. Why did Jim have it? Who sent it to him? Who the _fuck_ had taken it? With his trembling hands he unfolded the paper and read the words.

_'I'd keep your pet tiger on a short leash if I were you.'_

He sat then staring blankly at the single sentence. After a while he picked the photo back up and looked at it again more closely. It wasn't very clear but there was no doubt that it was him.

* * *

 

It was not long after Andy had left town and he was a bit out of control. The picture showed him in an alley leaning against the concrete wall of some pub, he'd not been worried about his personal appearance or much else at the time so he had longer, slightly wavy hair and a scruffy ginger beard and he was wearing an old ripped t-shirt.

Kneeling on the ground in front of him was a guy whose name he couldn't recall now but he did recall that entire evening. After about three weeks of barely leaving his flat with the exception of buying more booze and cigarettes his mate Morris had phoned him. He'd let it go to voicemail several times and then after two days of that a loud rap at his door woke him from his fitful stupor. He looked around and saw that the clock read three o'clock. He hoped it was AM but he felt sure that it was actually in the afternoon.

He groaned and stood up to answer the door. He remembered being annoyed when he opened the door and saw Morris standing on the threshold. He looked angry and flustered and Sebastian couldn't care less. He left the door ajar and went back inside. He picked up an armful of dirty laundry from the sofa and threw it on the floor to make room for Morris to sit.

"Mate, I had to find out if you were still fuckin' alive. Haven't heard from you in weeks. I know you're in a bad place but, c'mon man! You've gotta get outta here."

He gestured around the filthy space and wrinkled his nose disgustedly. Sebastian shrugged as he lit a smoke and handed the pack to Morris who shook his head.

"Bastian, I know you're down but... C'mon let's get out, let's go to the pub, yeah?"

Sebastian smiled tiredly around his cigarette, he appreciated the effort but he just didn't have the energy.

"Nah, you go on. I appreciate you comin' over mate but I don' feel like goin out."

Morris sat heavily on the sofa and looked over at Sebastian where he sat on a wooden kitchen chair.

"She's leaving me Bastian. She's takin' the baby and she's goin'. I don't know what to do anymore, me whole fuckin' life is falling apart."

He hung his flaming red head then and Sebastian crushed out his cigarette in the tray as he watched. Morris looked pitiful and Sebastian knew he looked no better so after about five minutes he decided they both _did_ need to go out.

"Gimme ten minutes mate, I've gotta shower." Morris looked thrilled.

Fifteen minutes later they were in a dingy little pub and drinking a pint. Morris had been married about two years ago when his girlfriend found out she was pregnant. Sebastian knew then that it wouldn't work, she couldn't stay faithful and Morris couldn't stop gambling on the nightly fights long enough to hold a real job. He'd lost track of the number of times that she'd thrown Morris out on his ear.

Now Morris was telling him how she'd sent their son to her parents in Killarney and then she'd begun throwing his things in the front garden while threatening to burn the lot. The cops had been called about the shouting and Morris was taken into custody for her protection even though he had never so much as raised a finger to her. Listening to Morris's sad tale he actually began to forget about his own troubles, combined with the several pints that he'd consumed he found himself feeling sorry for the guy next to him.

The pub had filled around them over time and Sebastian was beginning to feel slightly woozy from the alcohol and lack of food. After a few reassuring pats on the back Morris seemed less down and a few more of their mates had turned up so they began having a good time. They had shot a few games of pool and Sebastian had sold some stuff on the sly so he was feeling really good for the first time in ages. The place had become really crowded now and this guy had come up to him looking for something in particular, something Sebastian didn't have but he might be able to get for him. He was tall and had longish blonde hair with dark eyes and a nice body, he remembered him saying he was a footballer.

The man kept finding reasons to touch him whether it meant gently putting his hand on his arm to get his attention or touching his back as he tried to scoot past him as he made his way around the billiards table. Finally after about an hour of this Sebastian lurched up from the stool where he'd been watching the most recent game and made his stumbling way back to the toilets. The only one who'd noticed him was the guy from earlier.

After he pissed he came back out and saw the man standing just near the back exit door. He went to see if everything was okay and he'd shook his head no. He then pushed the door open and Sebastian stupidly decided to follow.

Once outside Sebastian found himself being pinned against the cold brick wall and being snogged. Before he could really process what was happening the guy had moved his frenzied hands to his fly and Sebastian couldn't stop his arousal so he simply leaned back and let him do his thing which turned out to be quite enjoyable. A quarter of an hour later Sebastian's whole body was tingling and he was breathing heavily as he came and held the blonde head at his cock. The guy sat back on his heels and looked heatedly up into Sebastian's face.

"Well, not every one has the distinct pleasure of saying that they went down on Bastian Moran's massive cock."

He then stood and Sebastian found he was suddenly, irrationally angry. He hadn't asked for this, what the fuck was this kid playing at? He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him forcefully against the brick, pressing his body against the other's as he did so.

"I don't know what the fuck you're playing at but I assure you that it's not advisable for you to fuck with me mate. Got it?"

The guy just smiled arrogantly back and so Sebastian shook him a little to get his attention.

"Whaddya gonna do? Hit me? I hear you can't really hit your mark these days anyway, at least not without a little help."

Sebastian was seething but with a Herculean effort he just shook the guy one last time then let him go forcibly as he reached down to zip his trousers.

"Stay the fuck out of my sight, yeah?" Then he turned to leave but not before the guy spoke up.

"Martinez sends his love."

When Sebastian turned back around he was gone and Sebastian was left furiously pacing the darkened alley. His life was in a downward spiral and he could see no way out. He never went back into the pub after that.

* * *

 

Now he looked at the photo again in the faint glow of a table lamp in the otherwise pitch darkness of the New York hotel room. He still couldn't really unravel all the strings of this twisted mess. Had he been in the right frame of mind at the time of this picture he might've questioned the whole situation further but he was out of it mostly so he was able to just get a hooker or two and forget the whole thing. All these years later he now realized his error.

He glanced then at his watch and saw that it was half three so he finally stood and returned to Jim's room. He very gently laid the envelope and it's confusing contents near the same location he'd picked it up from. Jim snored quietly and then continued on sleeping.

Sebastian tossed and turned that night having snippets of memories make their way into his subconscious. When he awoke at six after only two and a half hours of sleep he wasn't immediately aware of his location and he felt irritable. After he finally remembered what was happening he sat up and immediately his head began to pound. He groaned and went to shower and dress. When he was finished and dressed in nicely fitted jeans and a snugly fitting light blue sweater he went into the main room.

He felt like a zombie he was so horribly tired. Looking at the screen of his mobile as he checked his email he wasn't immediately aware that there was a person sitting at the small table cradling a steaming mug of tea, someone whom he had never expected to see again. When he looked up he was startled and felt sure that he was in fact still sleeping and this was an insanely vivid dream.

"A-Andy?"

The pretty red head turned around sharply and he saw immediately that she was no more prepared than he was to find the other here.

"Bastian? What-why are you here?"

He was glued to the spot and at that exact moment Jim reappeared looking as dapper as usual in a light grey suit with a white shirt and silver silk tie. When he realized Sebastian was standing there his face positively lit up with glee. His dark eyes seemed to sparkle as they danced between the two stunned faces of Andrea and Sebastian.

"Andrea, I'd forgotten to tell you my dear. I invited Sebastian to join me for the fight. I valued his input on some potential new talent."

Jim looked like a kid in a candy store as he spoke, he was enjoying this immensely. His eyes now flicked to where Sebastian stood paralyzed and he felt naked the way Jim's eyes roved over his form resting just a moment too long at his groin.

"Sebastian, Andrea works for me. She is quite... indispensable. I've never had an assistant as capable as she."

He laid a hand on her slim shoulder and she blushed. Sebastian felt numb. When his sluggish brain finally kicked back into gear and he was able to urge his stubborn feet to move he went over to her. She stood at his approach and finally smiled shyly. He grabbed her tightly as Jim moved back watching the whole thing.

"I've missed ya Andy." He whispered into her fragrant red hair.

She tightened her grip around his neck. When he let her go he saw her eyes were damp and she had tears on her lashes. He wanted badly to brush those tears away and hold her close forever so that him or anyone else would never have the chance to hurt her again but instead he ran a hand over his own face and sighed deeply.

"Christ, how long've you been working for Jim?"

She looked over her shoulder to where the man stood before answering.

"Just a short while. I'd heard you were uh...well..."

He laughed humorlessly as he went to pour himself a cup of tea.

"Yeah, I was locked up...again. It's really only thanks to Jim that I'm out actually."

Jim smiled warmly, it didn't reach his eyes. He looked at his watch then raised his eyebrows in shock.

"I've got an important meeting across town so I better be off. You two must have some catching up to do. We should all have dinner tonight though, say...eight?"

They both agreed and then Jim left, glancing back amusedly. Sebastian felt uneasy at letting Jim go alone but he also desperately wanted to talk with Andy. Once they were alone they took their steaming mugs and moved to the small sofa so they could chat comfortably.

He was amazed at how she had changed in the time since he last saw her. Her physical appearance hadn't changed much, her red hair was still as thick and silky as always as it fell just past her shoulders and her green eyes still sparkled in the light but the life that was once behind them seemed to have left. He felt a physical ache deep in his core at the thought of all she might've endured.

She kicked off her shiny black pumps and tucked her feet under her where she sat and he felt a pang of nostalgia at the gesture. Some things thankfully never change he thought. He took a deep breath and reached for her hand. He held it gently and ran his rough fingers over her smooth skin.

"Tell me about you. What've you been doing these past years?"

"Well, I had a bit of a rough time when I first moved to London. It was hard to find a job and I thought about finishing my medical training but I never did, Mark didn't think it was a good idea. I wish I hadn't listened to him but that's the past. We didn't stay together for long after we moved and I almost came back home a few times."

She looked thoughtfully at him then reached her free hand to his jaw. "I really have missed you too Bastian. I always felt wretched about the way we left things. I'm really pleased to have had this chance now, to set things right."

He smiled sadly at her and leaned his face into her palm. "Yes, who'd've thought that it'd be Jim Moriarty to reunite us?"

She looked briefly startled but then just as quickly she was smiling again, disguising whatever it was she felt.

"You've worked out who he is then?" She asked as she took both her hands back and picked up her mug to sip her now cool tea.

"Of course, I mean I'd not met him before he came to see me in prison but I-uh... well I've had reason to figure things out. Carl, huh?"

She looked distant. "Yeah, I think he's still so very sad about losing him. Carl was really so lovely. I know you didn't know one another that well but, well, I wish you had."

He leaned forward then and took the mug from her hands and after placing it on the table he pulled her easily into his lap. "Now, don't freak out Andy. Can you do me one favor? Indulge me just one last time and then, if you choose to walk out of my life I'll not stop you."

Her eyes were questioning and he decided not to wait for an answer. What was the saying? _It's easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission_ , well he was going to take the chance. Cradling her head he leaned in and softly placed his mouth on hers. At first he feared that she wouldn't respond but then suddenly he felt her entire body relax under his touch and she opened up to him. He felt that he could've wept when he felt her wrap her arms around his neck and hold him tightly in place.

After a minute of kissing and just holding one another Sebastian laid back and pulled her on top of him. She moved her hands to the hem of his sweater and lifted it up and over his head. Belatedly he remembered the cuts and she gasped when she saw the white bandage on his chest.

"Bastian what the hell happened?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

He responded as he tried to pull her back down to continue kissing. She apparently wanted answers because now her hand was tracing the scar on his abdomen from the fight outside the bar a few weeks ago.

"What're ya doin' with your life Bastian? Are ya ever gonna grow up?"

He frowned, this was not what he'd hoped would happen.

"Bastian, I don't wanna bury you. I know I wouldn't survive that."

Her eyes were becoming watery and he reached up and pulled her on top of him where he held her firmly. He kissed the top of her head.

"I don't mean to keep hurtin' ya Andy. Truly, I don't."

She sighed and turned her head to his neck where she began kissing him softly. He relaxed his hold on her and closed his eyes. She moved down his neck to his collar bone and then to his chest. She'd moved her hands to his fly as she kissed him and every nerve in his body seemed to tingle. He laid tranquilly as she kissed all the way down his torso. Just as she was slipping her hands inside his trousers he stopped her. She was confused.

"No, this isn't right Andy. We've not seen one another for all those years and now what? We're just gonna fuck?"

She brushed a strand of hair from her face as she sat up leaning back on his legs. She looked hurt.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's not what you wanted? You were the one to initiate it if you remember?"

He sighed as he sat up and hugged her around the middle and pulled her close.

"Yes, Andy it is what I want but not like this. Never like this, after all this time. I think we owe it to ourselves to figure shit out first, don't you think?"

She didn't respond immediately and he was concerned that he'd really injured her feelings.

"I've had quite enough time to figure my shit out Bastian. I know what I want, I've always known but it's always been unavailable."

He felt his heart clench then in his chest and he lifted her face to his, he used his thumb to wipe the tears from her cheek. He looked at her for a while then he kissed her softly and sweetly at first but then turning hungry, as though he had only one way to express how he felt and he didn't intend on wasting any more opportunities. She responded identically and it wasn't long until he easily flipped her on her back and was hovering over her.

He moved his hands to the zipper on her jeans and he undid them quickly and slid them down over her hips. He took his time removing each leg and holding it up while he gently caressed her calf and slid his hand up each thigh smoothly. They both desperately needed this and they both longed for the touch from the other. Sebastian could feel his heart rate steadily accelerating as he slowly moved aside her lace panties and played with her. He slid his fingers gently inside a few times feeling her wetness.  She finally seemed as though she couldn't stand any more, she was biting her lip and had her eyes closed in pleasure.

"Bastian..."

He took her cue then and pulled out his hard cock. He stroked the length a few times and then slid inside her. He gasped loudly at first and when he opened his eyes he saw her smiling up at him. When he felt her move her hips to meet his and heard the moan that escaped her he began moving savoring the warmth and the wetness. He moved in and out of her repeatedly and he was panting with the effort as he could feel tiny beads of sweat forming between his shoulder blades.

She had wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and was begging him to move faster and harder. With each thrust she moaned out his name and pleaded for more as she dug her nails into the skin of his back. He could feel her tightening around him and he moved faster making her scream while tipping her head back. He was panting then as he came, covered in sweat and feeling like all his bones had turned to jelly.  They laid that way for about five minutes until she gently pushed him away.

"Get up, what if Jim comes back?"

Sebastian looked at her in confusion then realization dawned.

"Oh, you're not..are you?" He asked as he stood up and rounded up their discarded clothing.

She didn't meet his eyes as she pulled her jeans up and zipped and buttoned them. She was saved the task of having to answer at all when they heard the door opening. She smoothed everything into place and ran a hand through her hair to try and calm it. Sebastian was furious.

"Ah! I hope you two've had a nice afternoon. Andrea dear, you will be required to fly back to London tonight I'm afraid. Something dreadfully urgent has arisen and requires my best girl on hand. I hope it won't be too terribly inconvenient."

He frowned at her and Sebastian became even more annoyed when he saw the look of relief on her face.

"Oh! Of course not! I mean, I was looking forward to dinner this evening with you and Bastian but I understand completely."

Jim smiled widely and Sebastian thought he reminded him forcibly of a particularly devious spider about to dine on a distinctly fat fly. He was so outwardly smug and arrogant and at the very same time Sebastian felt inexplicably guilty for having had sex with Andrea. It made no sense to him, it wasn't like Jim owned him or anything. Did he?

He wondered if there was an antidote anywhere in the world for this spider's venomous bite. He doubted it. It seemed fairly evident that this was a death sentence but one he'd willingly accepted. As usual, he had no one else to blame but himself.


	21. Frailty

After he had arranged to have Andrea sent off safely to JFK for her flight home and had received assurances from Sebastian that they would have dinner that evening he went into his room claiming he had a headache. He needed some time to himself, his meeting earlier hadn't gone exactly to plan and he was annoyed but that wasn't what was bothering him now, not really.  The doorman had handed him another envelope today and he was beginning to feel really anxious every time he received a new one. He despised this feeling, the loss of control, the unknown.

He tossed the thick envelope on the plush duvet and paced the room with his hands in his trouser pockets. He needed to address this, he shouldn't've let it go on this long he realized but he hadn't thought it was truly that serious. Now he saw that whoever this was had no intention of letting it go but what bothered him the most was that they hadn't asked for anything or even openly threatened him. What was it all for then?

He stopped in the center of the room and looked at the envelope where it lay harmlessly on the bed. It was just an envelope he told himself. Still he didn't move toward it. He almost felt as if something were possessing it, as though Carl himself was sitting on the bed. He closed his eyes momentarily and then when he opened them he almost fell backwards, Carl _was_ sitting there on the edge of the bed.

He had his long legs crossed and he wore a nice, conservative suit which was dark blue and had the faintest pin stripes. His white shirt had perfect French cuffs and he wore a blood red tie and a silver tie pin. His blonde hair was a little longer than Jim remembered on the top and was parted severely on the left. The sides and back were cut very short, almost shaved. Carl's features, however, were exactly as he recalled them.

Those perfect lips were turned up ever so slightly at the corners in a mocking sneer. His skin was as delicately pale as ever and his eyes were like the coldest ice the arctic had to offer. Jim stood transfixed and unable to utter a word. Carl lazily uncrossed his leg and lifted the envelope in the air between them.

" _Dear, dear Jim! I must admit to some highly injured feelings. I mean, I was important enough for you to murder in cold blood but yet-"_

He had stood and now came to where Jim was glued to the spot.

_"You can't even be bothered to open my little love letter promptly. It's no easy feat to send post from beyond the grave my love."_

Jim had finally found the ability to move and speak. He took a step back and shook his head.

"You're not real. You're dead. Why won't you stay that way?"

Carl tipped his head back and laughed loudly. Unconsciously Jim's eyes went to the door, he was irrationally afraid Sebastian would hear which made no sense since this was a ghost standing here.

_"Oh, Jim. My sweet, sweet Jim. I always thought you were so very clever.  You cant kill an idea my dear."_

He looked intently down at the envelope in his hand.

_"Shall we open it then? Together?"_

His eyes were dancing with amusement. Jim shook his head again.

"Leave. I'll not open it."

Carl frowned. _"Of course you'll open it my dearest."_

His icily cold hand clamped over Jim's wrist and he slid his other into his trouser pocket to retrieve the knife he knew would be there. His eyes flashed maliciously.

_"Tsk, tsk. Some things simply never change."_

He flicked the blade open and brought their hands together to slit open the paper. Instead of closing the blade then he stabbed it violently into the wooden top of the dresser behind Jim.

_"Are you prepared? I must caution you darling, this may be a bit much for your already fraying nerves."_

He then tipped the envelope over and out fell two photographs. They were both blurry at first and then Carl chuckled and held up the first one.

_"Oh, yes! I fondly recall this particular moment."_

He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Jim. _"This was when I learnt that you were indeed human and not a god simply walking amongst us mere mortals. You'd had me convinced until that night though, to which I say bravo."_

Jim swallowed hard and having been back against the dresser he firmly gripped the knife in his hand and yanked on it. He brought it around and was intent on planting it in Carl's abdomen when he realized the man was lounging on the bed now and looked to have not a care. Jim felt small beads of sweat forming on his brow and wiped his hand over it.

_"No one shall ever accuse you of not following through. You said it yourself earlier, I'm dead. So, about this photograph. When I came home that evening and found you covered in blood-well, it nearly broke my heart. I still had one at that time."_

Jim stretched his neck to either side causing it to crack loudly. Carl smirked.

_"You see Jim, I truly had thought you flawless. How was I to know that you harmed yourself in this way?"_

Suddenly Carl was standing directly before him and his long dexterous fingers were unbuttoning Jim's shirt. Jim could do nothing but watch in horrified silence. When he'd finished and pulled aside the shirt and lifted his undershirt he clicked his tongue disdainfully.

_"It would appear, my love, that you've not broken the habit. Perhaps you're repenting for a few things?"_

"Stop it! Just stop it."

Jim said quietly but with force, his hand holding the knife was shaking violently. Carl brought his deathly cold lips to Jim's ear.

_"Or what? You'll cut **me**? You'll cut **yourself**?" _

He laughed dryly again and went back to flop on the bed.

_"You know, for a supposed genius you're really quite daft at times. I'm haunting you because you deserve it. Frankly I'm surprised it hadn't happened from any one of your numerous victims over the years."_

He sat forward now on his knees. His eyes had gone dark and dangerous. He nodded to the knife in Jim's hand.

_"Go on then, what're you waiting for?"_

He licked his lips and his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach for the knife. Jim's breathing was shallow and hurried and his hands had gone clammy. He brought the knife up and pressed it to his stomach while closing his eyes. He felt the sharp pain of the cut but he didn't release the pressure nor did he add more. When he opened his eyes Carl was standing before him again and had placed his hand over Jim's, urging him on.

_"Do you remember how many places you had cut yourself that night? It was something unreasonable if memory serves. I could never understand why you wanted to harm this beautiful body, this body that I adored."_

He leaned down then and kissed Jim on his neck just below his ear. Jim shuddered involuntarily at the contact. He could feel the sticky warmth of the blood on his abdomen and he felt as it oozed from the cut. Carl had moved away again and was standing near the window with his hands in his pockets.

_"I still can't quite understand it though. I was there for you, I offered to be your painkiller. Why wasn't I enough?"_

Jim had dropped his hand back to his side.

"Often one builds an immunity to painkillers, I required something stronger."

Carl thought about it and then shrugged. _"Well, I suppose that explains why I'm here now."_

He frowned when he realized Jim had lowered the knife.

_"Oh no, no, no my love. It's not that easy I'm afraid. Here come and sit, you look - **dead** \- on your feet." _

Jim allowed his numb body to be steered toward the bed where he sank to the cushion; he vaguely registered dull pain on his lower stomach. Carl took his left wrist in his hand after rolling his sleeve of his right arm up he forced Jim to place the blade against his flesh there.

_"As I was saying, I offered you my help. You were drowning and so very often you could barely keep your head above water. I offered you my hand but you constantly refused."_

He'd added pressure to the knife while speaking and had urged Jim to drag it two inches down the top of his forearm.

_"Do you remember what happened when I came home that day and found you?"_

Jim nodded distractedly. "Yes, you half dragged me to the bathroom where you climbed in the bath with me and...and..."

Carl was watching him with such intensity but Jim no longer cared, he'd long passed that point.

_"And?"_ He prompted.

"And you held me while cleaning and tending the cuts. You were so frightened."

Carl nodded slowly. _"I was horrified. I thought I might lose the one person on earth capable of keeping me alive. You never cared about that though, you never cared about anyone. Do you pretend to care about him?"_

He nodded his head in the direction of the door.

"I _do_ care about him." Jim whispered and then his eyes went wide with horror.

He'd not really allowed himself to admit it or to really think about it for that matter and now he had just admitted it aloud, to a ghost. Carl's eyes flashed with anger.

_"That's **precisely** why I'll tear him apart first, tear him limb from bloody limb. I will raze him to the ground so completely that he will be a shell and all that will be left inside will be hatred. Pure, venomous hatred. And you know who he'll hate? Who he will despise and consider to be no more than a cockroach under foot? You." _

Carl had coaxed Jim to place the blade parallel to the cut that was now seeping blood and running slowly down his arm staining the linens and his suit. He now pressed harder slicing the skin apart and Jim shouted.

"Stop it! _**STOP IT**_! You're not real!"

Suddenly the door to the room was thrown open forcibly and Sebastian was there looking mortified. He ran to the bed where Jim was sitting with his back against the headboard and holding his knife while in the process of cutting his arm.

"Jesus Christ! Jim stop it!"

He reached to grab his arm and Jim swung the knife at him and sliced his right bicep shallowly but enough to draw blood. Sebastian was undaunted, he could tell that even though Jim was looking at him he wasn't really seeing him. He grabbed Jim's wrist firmly and applied pressure causing him to release the knife with a clatter. That seemed to snap him back to reality.

Sebastian put his hands over the bleeding wounds on his arm and pulled him in to his solid chest. Jim was slightly confused and a little annoyed.

"Jim, what the fuck was that? Are you okay?"

Jim struggled weakly against the stronger man's grip.

"Yes Sebastian, I'm fine. Let go of me."

Sebastian loosened his grip then and leaned down to retrieve the knife. He slipped it in his own pocket. Jim looked at the slashed fabric of his sweater and then at his own cut and sliced body. He reached a slightly shaking hand out and touched his bicep interestedly.

"I seem to have cut you. Where is he?"

Sebastian looked thoroughly confused. Jim looked all around the room and then to the end of the bed where the photographs laid forgotten. He scooted forward, wincing at the pain in his abdomen. He picked them both up and looked at them now. The first was the one that Carl had evidently taken of him the night that he had cut himself. He was lying on the floor in trousers and an undershirt and had sliced his arms in several places and apparently his stomach too because his white shirt was covered in blood. He was a right mess. He huffed out a dry laugh.

When he finally looked at the second photo he felt his heart sink to somewhere around his navel and he looked up at Sebastian where he now stood looking concerned.

"Jim, what is it? Please, what the fuck is going on here?"

Jim swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Sit down Sebastian. I think we need to talk."

He handed him the photo then, the photo of he and Sebastian in that alley shaking hands next to the corpse. Jim decided that now was as good a time as any to come clean. He figured that Sebastian was about to find out sooner or later and at this point he was in too deep to back out.


	22. Addicted

Once Andrea had left, giving him a friendly little hug that made his blood boil and Jim had made his excuses, Sebastian was left alone with his tumultuous thoughts. The main thing that was bothering him was Andrea. He had no idea who the woman was that he'd just fucked but one thing was for certain, she was different. She had turned into a mere shadow of the girl she'd been and it wounded him deeply. He felt responsible for not having been there for her, for not being who she needed him to be. He shook his head with a sigh.

He needed answers and he intended to get them. Somewhere along the line Andrea had turned into the person _she_ needed to be and it was time for him to do the same he decided. He was sick to death of others pulling the strings and writing the stage directions of his life.

He was about to go out and take a walk when his mobile buzzed from the table alerting him of a new text. He picked it up angrily and read the message, it was from a number he didn't recognize.

_~Even the fiercest tiger can become ensnared in a hunter's trap~_

He stood staring at the strange message and as he was typing a reply demanding to know who this was he received another new message.

_~Run, tiger, run~_

He angrily tapped the send button on the screen but immediately received an alert telling him that the message was undeliverable. He was angry. Why would someone send him that message? He was about to go and grab his pistol when he heard Jim's distressed shout. He didn't even take a second to make up his mind before his feet were propelling him toward the closed door. He flung it wide and cast his gaze all around the room looking for an attacker. There was no one. His eyes finally rested on Jim.

He was on the bed lounging against the leather headboard. His shirt was open and pushed up to show his stomach and an evidently fresh cut that was still seeping blood. The sleeve of his right arm was rolled up past his elbow and showed two fresh cuts on the back of his forearm. He still held the blade in his left hand and his hair was disheveled while his eyes were glassy and wild. Sebastian felt helpless but he knew he had to do something.

The attacker was the person being attacked so as usual he threw caution to the wind and bolted to the bed. Jim was startled and swiped the sharp blade through the air catching Sebastian's right bicep and slicing through the fabric of his sweater and biting into his skin. He briefly registered the pain followed by the warmth of his oozing blood but he ignored it as he caught Jim's wrist in his hand. He applied just enough pressure to cause him to release his grip on the knife. It fell to the floor with a clatter and caused Jim to snap out of his trance. Sebastian bent and picked the knife up slipping it into his own pocket.

He grabbed Jim firmly then and pulled him to his chest and wrapped his arms around his hunched shoulders. Jim allowed it at first but after a moment he struggled and demanded to be released. Sebastian did as he was told reluctantly. As Jim pulled away he disinterestedly pointed out that he'd cut Sebastian and then he noticed the photos strewn at the end of the bed. He scooted himself forward, wincing as he did so, and picked them up.

Sebastian kept his eyes shrewdly locked on the man. He was covered in blood. It was smeared on his face and his once perfectly white shirt was stained and ruined. Some had dropped to the white duvet staining it crimson. His trousers were ruined and smeared with it as well. Sebastian glanced at his own hands and saw that he too had quite a bit of Jim's blood on him.

Jim chuckled humorlessly as he looked at the first photo. Sebastian couldn't see it from where he stood but his chest clenched painfully at the look on Jim's face. Although he had laughed about it his dark eyes told another story. When he pulled the second photo out the smirk slid from his face rapidly. He looked up and caught Sebastian's eye. He was afraid.

"Sit down Sebastian. I think we need to talk."

Sebastian swallowed and pulled the chair from the vanity over to where Jim sat on the bed. He couldn't help the feeling of dread that had settled over him, the look in Jim's eyes was all the warning he needed. This man whom he had considered larger than life, more powerful than God, no mere mortal now seemed small and sunken. Something was actually able to scare him and that terrified Sebastian.

"I'm all ears Jim. Talk."

Jim looked down at the photo in his hand for a while before speaking. When he began he didn't immediately look up and his voice belonged to someone else, someone tired. Sebastian had to clench his hands into fists to keep from trembling.

"Sebastian, a very long time ago I..."

Sebastian waited.

"I did what I thought needed doing. I don't regret any of my actions but..."

He paused again and looked up now locking his dark gaze with Sebastian's cold one. Sebastian prayed that his features were impassive.

"There are some who believe that I should. I've played many games and I always win except, well.... I'm afraid that now there is an unknown player. Someone who thinks they are more clever, more cunning than I."

Sebastian never once looked away. He knew deep down that no matter what Jim said next, because he'd always known anyway, that he wouldn't leave. He was in this for life and it didn't matter whether that meant one week or ten years. He wasn't leaving this man's side.

"Look Jim, I don't need to know specifics about your past. I don't need to know what you did to survive, we all have pasts. Tell me what it is now, what's going on? I'm not leaving you so tell me."

A slow smile spread across Jim's face and the effect was maniacal mixed with the blood smeared there.

"You truly are a tiger amongst men aren't you my dear?"

Sebastian recoiled at the word ' _tiger_ ' but he didn't interrupt.

"Fine, no long winded stories then. Someone is trying their vey best to get to me, to make me 'pay' for things I've done. This person, whomever they may be, is pretending to be someone whom I once held in very high esteem. They are pretending to be Carl Powers. You and I both know he's dead."

Sebastian must've looked very confused because Jim huffed out a laugh and looked away momentarily.

"I know, I know. Absurd, right? I must find out who is behind this though and the only reason I'm telling you any of this now is because they've gone a step too far and have begun to threaten you."

Sebastian blinked and sat back in his chair. "How?"  He asked.

Jim looked unsure. "I'm sorry?"

"How is this person threatening you?"

Jim blinked. "Did you hear me mention that they have also threatened you?"

Now it was Sebastian's turn to laugh. "Yes, I did. I'm not bothered by that. Are you?" He raised his eyebrows in question.

Jim shook his head slowly. "I seem to constantly underestimate you."

His gaze turned distant again until Sebastian leaned forward and placed his large hands on Jim's knees.

"Jim, please. Tell me what's going on."

Jim looked down at where his large, warm hands rested on his knees and Sebastian could've sworn he saw something soften in those fathomless eyes.

"A few weeks back I began receiving letters and photographs in the post. In the beginning the photos were from my past and they typically showed myself and Carl. I'm not daft enough to pretend that you don't know that part of my story. He didn't die of an over dose. I think you know that."

Sebastian nodded, of course he knew.

"The sender of these letters has identified as Carl. I shrugged the whole business off because I had other... more pressing... things on hand."

He looked at Sebastian meaningfully. Sebastian still hadn't taken his hands from his knees and he didn't plan to.

"The envelopes have become more and more insistent of late and then they began to threaten you. Here is the most recent one."

He now handed Sebastian the photo of them in the alley. Sebastian's face was blank but inside his thoughts were turmoil. He stood up and paced the room while looking at it. He could feel Jim's eyes watching him the whole time. Finally he turned and put his hand on his hip while gazing at Jim.

"Well? What do you suppose we do about it?"

Jim tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. "Any sane individual would run. That's what I'm actually suggesting here Sebastian."

Sebastian snorted. "I think you're missing the fuckin' point here Jim. I'm not leaving. I've run away my entire life and I'll be fucked if I'm gonna keep doing it. Tell me what we are going to do."

Jim was looking at him now with nothing short of amazement. He stood up and came to where Sebastian stood.

"You are certainly unique, tiger of mine."

Sebastian didn't back down.

"You wanna hear me roar all you've gotta do is ask." He then put one hand at Jim's waist and firmly but gently pulled him in so their bodies were pressed together. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm really not overly fond of riddles. Can we clear this up then?"

Jim's face shone with glee.

"Oh, very good. Yes, of course we can."

Sebastian leaned down then and kissed him firmly on the mouth which was eagerly accepted by Jim.

"Good, then out with it."

He let go of Jim's waist then and went to sit on the bed. Jim looked to be still in shock but he ran a bloody hand through his hair trying to tame if down.

"Well, tomorrow we fly back to London. That is where we shall find our answers I think. Whomever is behind this feels certain that they have the upper hand on us. I can't allow that to continue. When we get back to London we will proceed as though nothing has changed. Got it?"

Sebastian nodded. "Sure, but what will you actually be doing?"

Jim looked thoughtful. "I've not worked it all out yet. I will though, I will." He paced to the window while absently running his hand over the drying and scabbing blood on his arm. "I'll figure something out." He muttered mostly to himself.

Sebastian just watched him then for a while. Finally after about ten minutes of silence he couldn't help himself, he needed a few answers.

"Jim?"

"Hmmm?"

He turned and came to lie on the bed next to where Sebastian sat, he looked exhausted.

"What do you think they're after?"

Jim had closed his eyes and Sebastian wondered if he'd fallen asleep. Finally after a few minutes he spoke.

"Revenge." Was all he said.

Sebastian then laid down next to him and he picked up his hand and held it in his own. He could feel Jim tense at first but then he relaxed.

"Oh, good. As long as it wasn't anything boring like justice."

He then rolled on his side so he was half hovering over Jim. Jim didn't open his eyes but he spoke in a sleepy voice.

"You know, I'm a horrid man. I don't want you harboring any delusions about me."

Now Sebastian laughed and it sounded very close to a bark.

"Trust me, I harbor _no_ delusions." He paused thoughtfully and Jim opened his eyes. "I suppose I got addicted to a certain kind of madness."

Jim closed his eyes again with a small smile and responded, "Always the addict."


	23. Easy, Tiger

Jim had honestly expected Sebastian to run as fast as possible for the door when he realized what was going on. He hadn't. They were lying now on top of the duvet and Sebastian was holding his hand soothingly while he drifted in and out of sleep. He hadn't rested properly in such a long time and whatever had just happened to him had drained him so completely that he didn't even have the energy to be snarky about the hand holding. The only reason he was now dozing at all was because he just felt inexplicably safe when Sebastian was around. How ridiculous, he thought. He wasn't a man that relied on others for his safety, until now it seemed.

He felt a dull throb on his arm and his stomach where he'd cut himself earlier. The blood had dried now and the wounds had begun to scab but he didn't have the desire to clean and dress them properly. Almost as though he were reading his mind Sebastian spoke up.

"Jim?"

"Mmm."

"Jim, c'mon. We need to clean those cuts before they get infected. Let's go, up you get."

Jim didn't open his eyes, he didn't want to move yet. "I don't need to Sebastian. I'll be fine."

He heard Sebastian sigh somewhere nearby and then he felt the bed move as he stood removing his weight and that finally caused his eyes to snap open.

"What're you doing?"

Sebastian smirked. "Getting you cleaned up."

Jim sat up wondering what he was planning. Sebastian stood holding his large hand out to Jim who eyed it suspiciously. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way Jim. What's your choice?"

Jim paused for another second then he sighed and stood without taking Sebastian's hand. Sebastian grinned and followed him to the bathroom. Jim could feel his eyes on him as he untucked the rest of his shirt from his trousers and then, with a grimace, pulled his undershirt over his head. The skin all around the wound was pink and irritated. Sebastian came a little closer. Jim ignored him as he undid his trousers and let them fall to the floor and then he removed his pants as well, stepping out of both. He heard the other's intake of breath as he evidently saw the scars on his legs.

He was about to turn toward the shower when he felt large, warm hands on his shoulders and his body was turned. He didn't look up, he absolutely did _not_ want to see the look of pity that he knew would be on Sebastian's face. It made him feel sick when people looked at him that way. He had no choice however when Sebastian put his finger under his chin and forced him to look up. He was pleasantly surprised to see Sebastian smiling down at him, it confused him.

"I told you before, I don't _care_ about your past. I don't know why and frankly I don't care why. My only concern is your future."

Jim narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He'd learned to never trust anyone and he knew enough about Sebastian to know that the man was a survivor but he desperately wanted his words to be true. He wanted it so much that he felt a physical ache deep inside, begging for him to be speaking the truth. He had no idea why he felt this way, he simply did.

Jim watched his eyes intently, not saying a word. For some reason he was linked to this man and he couldn't describe it if he had to but he just felt in his bones that he needed the man by his side. He felt a twinge of remorse for the very first time in his life as he gazed into those steely eyes. He felt slightly sorry for what he had had a hand in causing in Sebastian's past. He wondered if Sebastian would stay if he knew the depth of it, he doubted it. He assumed that even Sebastian Moran had his limits.

Before he could ponder any further however, Sebastian had leaned down slightly and placed his mouth gently on Jim's. He hadn't shaved today so his skin was rough and scratchy but Jim didn't mind. At first he just pecked him on his cold lips a few times and then he took a tiny step closer and pressed a little harder, trying to get Jim to open up. Jim then parted his lips slightly, uncertainly. This was so achingly sweet that he wasn't sure what exactly he should do. He felt Sebastian's face split into a smile against his mouth and he involuntarily did the same.

In a moment Sebastian was holding his naked body firmly in his strong arms and kissing him passionately. His warm tongue was exploring Jim's mouth and his teeth and his lips. He was hungrily devouring the taste of him as he playfully bit Jim's lower lip and sucked on it just a little. Jim found himself responding identically as he slid his tongue over Sebastian's and grazed his teeth. After a few minutes Sebastian pulled away and was smiling widely. He moved his hands to the hem of his ruined sweater and pulled it over his head to land on the tile floor, forgotten.

Jim watched with interest, his skin was tingling with anticipation. He licked his lips imagining Sebastian's tongue was still there and his eyes flitted to the white bandage on his chest. He reached a hand forward and touched it gently. Sebastian was watching him.

"D'you wanna see?"

Jim nodded. Blood was pounding in his ears and he swallowed hard. Sebastian flinched as the adhesive had stuck to the minimal hairs that were there and he ripped the bandage away. The skin was pink and scabbing but the stripes were defined and perfect. Jim took a deep breath as he moved closer again, transfixed. He caressed the skin gently with his fingertips.

"Does it hurt? Did I hurt you?" He asked in an odd voice. He looked directly into Sebastian's eyes as he waited for an answer. He could see that he was unsure of how he should respond. Finally the man shrugged his broad shoulders and Jim shivered.

"Yeah, I suppose it hurt, you did hurt me. I reckon that's something you're pretty good at, huh?"

Jim smirked and turned away toward the shower leaving Sebastian wondering. Just as he reached the shower he said, "You're quite right my dear, it's a specialty of mine. Are you joining me then?"

Sebastian laughed and dropped his trousers immediately to follow Jim. The water was running and steam was beginning to fill the bathroom already. Jim was quite pleased to see Sebastian's arousal as he stepped into the shower.

"Easy, tiger." He murmured before Sebastian was crushing his lips once more with his own and all thought had been halted.

The water stung the open cuts on his arm and stomach but he barely registered it as Sebastian's solid body was holding him in place and shielding him from most of the spray. He wanted to take control but it seemed that Sebastian had other plans because every time he tried to move away and make his own moves he was stopped. Finally Sebastian pulled his lips away and as he blinked away the water in his eyes he leaned his forehead against Jim's.

"Listen, you may be the big bad wolf in the outside world but for right now you're Little Red Riding Hood and you're lost in _my_ forest. Got it?"

Jim was stunned and very much interested so he kept quiet and allowed Sebastian to take the lead. He was then pushed back against the cold, wet shower tile and Sebastian raised his hands above his head, holding them in place with his own larger hands. Jim kept his eyes fixed on the man as he mentally pleaded for him to never stop.

Sebastian slowly and deliberately slid his hands down Jim's arms to his biceps where he leaned in and kissed him first on his right then the left. He licked the water beads from his skin and swirled his tongue causing goose pimples to erupt. He then moved over to his collarbone and then to his clavicle where he traced the delicate bone with his tongue. He moved even lower down to his sternum and then his abdomen, he paused at the freshly cleaned cut there and looked up at Jim. Jim wanted to look away but he forced himself to hold that gaze. After a moment he continued and Jim took a deep breath.

He wanted badly to place his hands on the back of Sebastian's head and move him to his cock but he also wanted to see where this was going, what the man would do when given control. He left his arms where they were above his head against the shower wall. He gasped as he felt Sebastian's tongue on the sensitive skin around his erection and then when he felt a hand gently cupping his balls he closed his eyes. Sebastian was licking and kissing the skin all around and then finally he moved to his cock. He slid his tongue up and down the hard length several times and Jim didn't dare to look, for fear of losing control.

Sebastian slid both hands to cup his arse and move him forward a bit and he moved below Jim's enormous erection and sucked delicately on his balls, now he couldn't resist and he brought both hands to the back of Sebastian's head as he groaned. He bit his lip when he felt him suck harder and then finally move back up to his erection and slide the whole thing slowly into his mouth, to the very back of his throat. Jim felt like every ounce of blood in his body was now pulsating in his hard cock and all he could think about was the man on his knees sucking on it with such intensity that Jim feared he'd lose control soon. He'd never in his life received a blow job like this and he kept one hand on Sebastian's wet head while he wiped the water from his eyes so he could see every movement the man made.

He watched as the muscles in his shoulders and back tensed with the motion of moving forward and backward as he sucked. He reveled in the movement of the muscles in his thighs as he knelt on the slick shower floor. The way his veins protruded in his forearms as he held Jim's arse firmly were the height of eroticism.

Watching these things it wasn't long until Jim felt the heat in his lower abdomen and the tightening in his groin as he came. He was breathing heavily and Sebastian stayed at his erection until he had finished completely then he sat back on his haunches and let the water run over him. He stood and wiped his hands over his face to clear away the water. He leaned very close to Jim once more, his erection rubbing against Jim's stomach as he kissed him sweetly below his ear and murmured, "C'mon, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

Jim nodded helplessly, he was now so spent that he couldn't have argued even if he'd wanted to. He allowed Sebastian to lead him from the shower and dry him a bit with a towel. His damp hair hung limply on his forehead.

"Wait here." He demanded as he made Jim sit at the vanity.

He returned a moment later with some bandages and antiseptic ointment. After he applied them he guided Jim to his bedroom and made him lie down. He sat on the other side of the bed while Jim watched him. He could see him fidgeting with something but he was so tired he couldn't really see it properly.

"What're you doing Sebastian?"

He didn't answer immediately. Finally a few minutes later he replied, "I'm staying with you tonight and I was checking to be sure my pistol was in order and loaded."

Jim would've argued but he was exhausted and he welcomed the warm presence in his bed even though he'd never admit it. When Sebastian finally laid down and turned out the light Jim found he wasn't as tired as he'd thought before. "Sebastian?" There was silence for a minute then his deep Irish voice floated from the other side of the king bed.

"Yeah? What is it, you're supposed to be sleeping."

"I need to know why."

He heard the man sigh deeply and felt the mattress move as he had rolled onto his side and was propping himself on his left hand.

"Why what?"

"Why you intend to stay with me? I can't promise that danger doesn't lurk ahead, possibly death. Almost certainly there will be pain."

He thought he could almost hear Sebastian smirk even though he couldn't see his face in the darkness. "If you're trying to scare me away that isn't the way to do it."

He was silent then and Jim assumed that he wasn't going to say anything else and then his voice floated through the darkness again.

"Jim, I've spent my entire life running from something. Always when things were difficult I tucked my tail between my legs and ran. Me mam died when I was just a lad, I was only sixteen. No boy should lose their mother so young but I had no choice. I ran away before my old man even buried her. I never looked back."

He was quiet again and Jim could feel him fidgeting with the sheet so he scooted just a tiny bit closer, he hadn't meant to it just happened. He wanted to comfort Sebastian if at all possible, the hurt in his voice was almost more than he could bear. The emotion was so raw and real; Jim had no feelings like that for his own family. The only one who'd even mattered a little had killed himself after their mother had failed them. He took a deep breath then and continued.

"When I found a place just outside of Dublin and I met Andy I thought I'd stay and settle into that life." His voice now sounded unmistakably bitter. "In the end, I ran from that too, I could never commit. I think you know the larger bits of my life so you know what I'm tryin' to say here."

There was only a few inches of bed between the two. "I do know what you're saying but you've not answered my question. I don't want excuses, I want reasons."

Sebastian seemed to be thinking about that for a minute. Finally he answered.

"This is going to sound stupid but here goes.  I'm staying because we're linked, you and I. I don't know how or why. Hell, I don't even know how much of my life was real and how much you've influenced but I just know, deep down, that I must be near you. It's ridiculous but there it is. I didn't ask for this but I'll be damned if I'm gonna run away again."

As Sebastian was speaking Jim had reached over and picked up his calloused hand. The silence seemed to stretch on interminably and Jim was happy that the darkness concealed their features; he felt sure that neither of them would want the other to see what was on their face.

"When we get back to London I plan to sort this all out. Once everything is back to normal I'd like it very much if you'd take on the boxing part of my business, run things for me. I can't seem to do it all and I despise nothing more than shoddy business."

Sebastian had moved a little closer now, closing the gap between them. Jim could feel his warm breath on his neck and he smiled into the darkness.

"Yeah, I'd like that very much. Thank you." He responded, his voice was barely above a whisper and then he'd put his hand on Jim's face and turned it toward his own so he could kiss him passionately.

Jim had no clue where this was going but for probably the first time since those early days with Carl he actually felt happy. That constant anxiety he had been living with the past few weeks seemed to have disappeared for now. He certainly hadn't let his guard down but it was really quite nice to feel safe for a change, to know someone was actually willing, of their own free will, to protect him. Thankfully he couldn't possibly know in the cloaking darkness of night what the harsh dawn light was going to bring.


	24. Mistakes

Sebastian awoke very early the following day and wondered stupidly why he was so cold until he blinked a few times and realized he had only a small sliver of the bed sheet to cover his otherwise naked body. He yawned widely then and sat up; he hadn't slept much, not because of Jim sharing the bed but because he was on high alert. When he felt threatened or that danger might be anywhere nearby he didn't allow himself to rest. So he'd only dozed off and on for most of the night but he was pleased to know that Jim had slept soundly.

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes. He got up then and walked out to the main room and then all through the entire suite ensuring that everything was as it should be. When he was satisfied that all was well he went to the kitchenette to turn on the coffee. Just as he was turning to go and get dressed before waking Jim something caught his eye on the counter.

He knew for absolutely certain that nothing had been there the night before because it was exactly where he'd left his mobile after receiving the strange text and then Jim shouting. Now there was a heavy white envelope lying there and his name was scrawled across the front. The buzzing in his ears had begun.

He went slowly back to the counter and delicately lifted it. He held it up to the light to see if he could tell what it was inside although he felt sure that he already knew. He felt certain that this was from Jim's ' _admirer_ '. Grabbing a knife from the block he slit the paper open easily.

He tipped the contents onto the counter and counted to ten before lifting the photo and turning it over. He felt as though all the wind had been knocked from his lungs, as though he were floating through space aimlessly and he was lost in a black void of misery. The photo fluttered to the floor from his numb fingers. It landed so the picture was facing up on the white ceramic tile.

It was the crime scene photograph of his mother's dead body. She was lying on the cold, damp pavement with a chalk outline scratched around her. Her eyes were glassy and lifeless and there was a pool of dark, crimson blood around her head like a gruesome halo. Her clothes were torn and dirty while her handbag laid abandoned next to her. Her attacker hadn't gotten a thing, he murdered her after assaulting her and then took off without taking a single item.  He'd never been apprehended.

Shakily he picked up the folded letter and read the typed words. He had to read it several times before his brain absorbed them.

_Sebastian,_

_I can only imagine the anguish that you will feel at seeing this photo again. I truly do lament the fact that I've had to send it to you but I fear that this is my final resort as you've not heeded my advice thus far. Everyone and everything you've ever loved is in peril whilst you stay with that man. Use your brains and do the right thing, you must leave._

_P.S. I shall contact you again in twelve hours, I do so hope that you will make the proper decision. _

It was unsigned.

He placed his shaking hands on the counter to try and steady himself. He felt like the whole world was spinning around him.  The buzzing in his ears had intensified to the point that all other noise was blocked out completely. After a moment he took a deep breath and bent to pick up the fallen photograph. He tucked the two things back into the envelope and headed for his room to get dressed. His brain was on overdrive and he was angry.

When he emerged ten minutes later dressed in jeans and a long sleeve thermal shirt with his luggage in tow he found Jim sitting at the table reading the news. He was perfectly dressed in dark fitted trousers and a white button up shirt with no tie. He glanced up and smiled when he heard Sebastian approach. Sebastian smiled back quickly having decided not to mention the envelope. He couldn't wait to land in London later today.

"All set then?" He asked Jim as he reached in his back pocket to check for his passport.

Jim nodded and laid the paper aside. The ride down to the lobby in the lift was silent. Sebastian was still seething about the photo which he'd tucked safely in his leather messenger bag and he welcomed the quiet. He didn't quite know why but he wanted to keep it secret from Jim, at least for now. Jim, for his part, seemed consumed with his own thoughts and Sebastian was thankful.

He didn't utter a single word until their flight was in the air and had reached cruising altitude. Sebastian was gazing out of the window at the fluffy white clouds but not really seeing them.

"Sebastian."

He blinked a few times to focus his vision and then realized from the look on Jim's face that he'd probably called his name more than once. He looked annoyed.

"Hmm? Yeah, sorry. What is it?"

Jim rolled his eyes.

"What's bothering you? Has something happened?"

Sebastian hesitated, he almost told him of the envelope but then changed his mind again and he didn't know why. He shook his head.

"No, nothing's happened. Why d'you ask?"

Jim surveyed him shrewdly and it was all he could do to hold his ground. His mobile beeping from his pocket was all that saved him from the tense moment. He pulled it out and read the new message.

_~tick, tock~_

He kept his face impassive but his fury was rising rapidly and threatening to boil over. Jim was still watching him and he just wanted to shout. He took a steadying breath and deleted the message. Jim watched him for a second longer before returning to his book.

When they landed several hours later on the private air strip Sebastian could've jumped for joy. As the trans-Atlantic flight had dragged on he became increasingly anxious. Jim hadn't said much more after the initial conversation but that was perfectly fine by Sebastian.

As they were about to deplane and Sebastian had thrown his bag over his shoulder he felt a hand on his bicep holding him back. He turned and was looking right into Jim's eyes, he seemed...strange.

"Sebastian, I'm tru-..." He paused and closed his eyes for a second. "I have a driver waiting to take you to your flat."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Uh, Jim, I'd prefer to go with you to your flat first and then I'll go home. I'd like to check things out, be on the safe side."

Jim smiled and pushed past him to leave the plane. "Not necessary. I'll be in touch tomorrow. Good evening." Then he'd disappeared.

Sebastian hurried to follow only to see the back of the man's dark head as he slid into the back of his black sedan. He sighed and moved toward the second idling luxury car pulling out his beeping mobile as he did so. He had yet another new text. He glanced at his watch and felt his insides go ice cold; it had been nearly twelve hours since the envelope in New York. He stood just outside of the car as he opened the message.

_~I did warn you.~_

**[msg. attachment]**

He tapped the button to open the file and his knees almost buckled. The file was a photograph and he'd not been even remotely prepared for what it showed. He put one hand on the car to steady himself while he tried several times to dial Jim's number with shaking fingers.

The picture he'd received was of Andrea. Bloody and bruised with a swollen eye and lip. Her hands and feet were bound and she appeared to be unconscious. He couldn't tell at first where exactly she was because the lighting was awful but it appeared to be in a house or flat. When he'd calmed himself enough and given up on dialing Jim he inspected the photo more closely.

She appeared to be on a floor, a tile floor and he felt that he recognized the color and type of tile. He realized then where she was. It was his old flat from when he first lived in London many years ago. He jumped in the back of the car and gave the startled driver the address. He was shocked that he still remembered it.

As the car sped toward the location he dug inside his bag and pulled out his gun. He made sure it was loaded and ready to go. He also realized that he still had Jim's knife from the night before at the New York hotel room. The thought made him feel uneasy.

He grabbed his mobile again and this time his hands were perfectly steady when he dialed Jim's number. He was always this way, when he had a plan of action he was determined. Jim's mobile rang several times then the automated message system came on asking him to leave his name and number. He hung up. Why wasn't Jim answering? He'd almost certainly have his phone on him and he was meticulous about answering. He dialed once more and the same thing happened.

"Jim, it's me. Please phone me back. Quickly."

He hung up and sent a text.

_~I need to speak with you ASAP~ SM_

He stuck his mobile back in his pocket and crossed his fingers that they'd arrive soon. The vehicle had barely stopped when he jumped out amidst shouts of "Oi! You'll get yerself killed sir!" from the driver.

Sebastian bolted up the pavement shouting over his shoulder, "Wait here!"

He ran up two flights of stairs while skipping several steps on his way, he had no time to spare. He walked down the poorly lit hallway until he reached number 235. His old flat, he remembered how small and dodgy the place was and he looked all around the corridor now to be sure he wasn't being watched. He didn't see anyone but that didn't mean anything.

He reached out and grabbed the handle of the door, it was unlocked and turned easily. He gently pushed it open and held his breath as it squeaked slightly. There were no lights anywhere and moth eaten drapes covered the window which would've been the only source of light. He quietly entered looking all around, over his shoulder, around the door frame. There didn't seem to be anyone here.

He turned the corner then and went into the small galley kitchen and that was where he found her. She had on the clothes that she'd been wearing when she left New York two days ago. Her hair was matted with dried blood from a head wound and her face was as swollen and bloody as it had looked in the picture. Her hands and feet were tied with rope and they were raw and bloody from where it had dug into her skin. Sebastian glanced quickly around again and then knelt down beside her.

He gently lifted her head and cradled it in his lap as he pulled out the knife and sliced through the bonds at her wrists. Her eyes moved slightly beneath her lids and he felt his heart leap. Maybe he hadn't been too late after all.

"Andy. Andy, please, can you hear me?"

He lifted her shoulders a little higher as he smoothed her hair away from her face. She blinked a few times and then he felt her whole body tense up when she realized she wasn't alone.

"No! Get away from me! Please just leave me be!" Tears had started running down her cheeks and he cradled her closer to his chest and tried to soothe her.

"Shhh! Andy, it's me, Bastian. I'm not gonna hurt you! Shh."

Her entire body was shaking and she struggled feebly until he was finally able to calm her. Tears were still streaming from her swollen eyes but she seemed to have calmed a bit and was trying to place him.

"Bastian? No!" She shouted again when she realized who he was. "No! Bastian you can't be here! Why're you here? Why've you come? This is exactly what he wants!"

She was struggling again as she tried to sit up. He helped her to a more comfortable position and then leaned forward to cut the rope at her ankles. She was positively panic stricken as she turned to him and grabbed his shirt in her hands.

"You've done exactly what he wanted Bastian! I've made a terrible mistake, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry! You've gotta go, get outta here."

He gently pried her fingers from his shirt. "What're ya on about? Andy I'm not leavin' ya. Who did this? Who're ya talkin' about?"

She was positively frantic as she tried to stand up. She was so weakened that every time she tried to stand on her own she'd fall back on Sebastian. He finally put an arm around her waist and guided her to the damp, musty sofa.

"Andy, I need you to take a deep breath and explain to me what's goin on here because I'm not gettin it." Her eyes were wild and unfocused. He assumed that she'd been drugged at some point. When she finally calmed herself enough to speak coherently she grabbed him by his shirt again and he gently held her wrists.

"Bastian, you've gotta listen to me. I've made a horrible mistake. Jim is in trouble and it's all my fault."

"What do you mean Andrea? What've you done?" He suddenly felt cold.

"I didn't know Bastian. You've gotta believe me."

He was becoming angry now. "Tell me what you've done." He demanded through clenched teeth.

She was sobbing and couldn't get her breath for a moment and he was about to lose his temper. He stood up abruptly and began pacing.

"I didn't know.... I didn't mean..."

"God damn it Andrea! Tell me!"

She finally took a few breaths and calmed herself with an effort. She answered in a voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"It's him. I helped him, all those years ago. I helped him and now he wants revenge."

Sebastian rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to remain calm. He felt as though he had no internal organs of any kind. He was completely hollow, he couldn't feel his heart beating nor could he feel his stomach clenching. He was empty. The only thing he seemed to still have was a brain and it was whirring like a machine, he had to get to Jim.

He looked back to where Andrea sat huddled on the sofa and, in a voice that was not his own, he said, "Get up. We're leaving"

She obeyed wordlessly and followed him from the room. If he had to die in the attempt he vowed to himself that he would be there for Jim. He would not allow him to fight this battle alone, he'd stand by his side no matter what. Now, he just needed to reach him.


	25. Phantoms

Jim relaxed into the soft leather of the black sedan as it sped away from the air strip and headed for his flat. He was pleased to be home. New York was fine but nothing felt quite like being back in London.

He was, however, a tiny bit annoyed with himself for showing weakness to Sebastian. He'd almost apologized but thankfully stopped before doing something so stupid. He pulled out his mobile then and checked his email briefly, there was nothing terribly pressing awaiting his response. He looked at his texts and also saw that there was nothing of importance so he tucked the phone away and leaned back in the seat.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest for just a moment. He couldn't piece together his strange feelings for Sebastian. The man just did something to him, made him feel things that he'd never hoped to feel again. As he sat with his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips he imagined that Sebastian's solid warmth was next to him in the car now. He wanted him here, he _needed_ him here because he could feel his anxiety growing as each second sped him further away from the man.

He opened his eyes abruptly and chided himself for thinking those things. He was thankful when the car pulled up to the curb outside of his building. He jumped out and was also thankful for the bitingly cold wind on his face. It was a wake up call which was precisely what he needed.

He strode into the lobby of his building and found that he couldn't wait to take a shower and just go to sleep. The flight had really sucked all of his energy. He was about to bypass the door-man without a word when he heard his name called.

"Mr. Moriarty, sir."

He sighed and turned toward the elderly man with an annoyed expression. He didn't speak he just raised his eyebrows at the man trying to get him to hurry along.

"This came for you, sir."

He handed him an envelope. He swallowed and took it without a word. Once in the lift he waited for it to ascend and then he hit the stop button between floors. He reached in his pocket for his knife and felt his stomach drop when he realized it wasn't there. He tore the paper open and pulled out a photograph and a letter, like always.

This photograph was by far the most disturbing one he'd received yet. It showed Sebastian lying sprawled on the ground with a single dark bullet hole directly between his eyes. Those steel grey eyes were wide and staring lifelessly, frozen in a permanent look of shock. He had to swallow back the bile that was rising in his throat.

It wasn't possible, it simply was not possible. He'd only just left the man at Heathrow. There was no possible way that he was dead. He closed his eyes for a second but opened them again almost instantly; that horrible picture was burned into his retinas. He slowly unfolded the accompanying letter and read it numbly.

_My Most Beloved,_

_I can not stress enough how dearly I wish that you had listened to me. If only you had cut him loose when I advised you to then you mightn't have his blood on your hands now. Do you think it shall ever wash off? You can try but I fear that you have bathed in so much blood in your life that it'd be a near impossibility. I shall keep this short as I feel certain that we shall be reunited again soon._

_Eternally Yours,_

_Carl_

Immediately he pulled out his mobile and dialed Sebastian, there was no answer. Jim read the letter once more then he took it and the photograph and tore them each into a million tiny pieces. He ripped them again and again and again until it was impossible to tear the bits any smaller and then he let them flutter to the floor of the lift.

He turned to look out of the glass and over the twinkling city of London. He felt odd, he had a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow and his eyes were stinging with unshed tears.  He slammed his palm once against the cold, solid glass in his frustration and then closed his eyes for a second.

Finally he turned and jabbed the button to make the lift move again. He couldn't believe that the photo was real, he wouldn't allow himself to. Sebastian who was so warm and alive, so virile and solid. The man was cunning and alert, he'd never allow anyone to get to him like that much less allow himself to be murdered point blank and not even put up a fight.

When the lift doors opened he went into his flat in a daze. He was now properly angry. That envelope was the final straw. He put his black leather carry on bag on the glass coffee table and went to make a drink at the bar. He was just about to pour the Scotch into the glass when a voice spoke from the darkness, a voice which was impossible, a voice which he himself had silenced. At least he had meant to.

"You have aged finely my love, like an expensive wine. One of the very best vintages."

Jim finished pouring the alcohol into the glass and he remained with his back to the room. He picked up the tumbler and inspected the liquid before he drank the whole amount in one gulp. Finally he turned and smiled widely.

"You, _my dear_ , have aged much better than anticipated as well." He paused here and looked all around. "If I'm honest, the fact that you've aged at all has come as a bit of a shock."

Carl was sitting in a corner of the room where the shadows were thickest. He sat in a square leather armchair with his long legs crossed. He was wearing nicely tailored, light colored trousers and a dark button up dress shirt. His dirty blonde hair was meticulously groomed and styled, parted on the left and neatly trimmed around his ears. Even in the darkness Jim could see his icy eyes dancing. He looked as calm and cool as ever with his long, delicate fingers resting on the arms of the chair.

Jim lifted the bottle of Scotch. "May I tempt you?"

Carl tilted his head to one side while grinning. "Oh, go on then. I can never resist a good Scotch. You may not know that about me, it's rather a new development."

Jim filled his own tumbler and then filled one for Carl. Slowly he walked it over to where he sat. When he handed it to him Carl made sure to caress his hand in the process of accepting the glass then he stood. Jim smiled and held his glass aloft.

"To reunions. Happy and unhappy alike."

Carl laughed richly and said, "Here, here."

They both drank. Jim put his hand in his pocket then and surveyed the man standing before him.

"Why've you come Carl?"

Carl placed his empty glass on the side table and took a tiny step closer. Jim could now see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and on his forehead. The hair at his temples seemed to have a few shiny silver ones mixed in. There was no mistaking, however, the manic glint behind those cold blue eyes. This man standing here in his sitting room was not the Carl Powers from all those years ago, he was most definitely a reincarnation of a much darker sort. If he didn't know that his life was most certainly in peril he would've been pleased by the transformation.

"I think you know exactly why, love. Go on, you're very clever as you're so fond of reminding everyone. Work it out."

Jim laughed now, "I suppose the question was a tad more rhetorical than I'd meant it. I do, of course know _why_ you're here. You're obvious." He turned away. "And boring. Any old person could seek and exact revenge. How very... _mundane_." He said the word as though he had just bitten into a lemon and it had left a sour taste on his tongue.

Carl was still standing where he'd left him and when Jim turned back to face him from across the room he was shocked to see that he was still smiling widely. He'd expected him to be offended, at least the past fourteen years had toughened him a little.

"Oh, dear me, Jim, _dear me_." Carl clicked his tongue disappointedly. "Hmmm, maybe it's old age. That must be it, you still look as treacherously handsome as ever but the years have apparently dulled your sharp edge."

Jim frowned then. He didn't have any idea what he was on about. He didn't say anything though, he simply waited. Carl now came to where he stood. He placed his left hand on Jim's jaw gently and gazed longingly into his dark eyes as he stepped close to him, their bodies almost pressed against one another.

"What happened Jim? To us? Why'd it have to end that way?"

Jim was fighting to keep his features impassive. He smirked then as he looked up into those ice chips that he called eyes.

"Why didn't you just stay dead?" He asked viciously.

Carl looked at him sadly for a second longer then his face broke into a sneer.

"Perhaps you should've tried harder."

That was when Jim became aware of the gun in Carl's hand. Before he could react the butt of it connected solidly with his head and his world went black.

Visions of Sebastian's corpse swam before his eyes and he reached his hands out to touch him, he needed to be sure that he really was dead but he couldn't move his arms. He wanted to run to him but he felt as though his legs were stuck in quicksand and he couldn't go anywhere. He was frustrated and wanted to shout out but he couldn't make a sound.

Those terribly dead and lifeless eyes kept floating in and out of his vision hauntingly.  He wanted to reach out, he so badly needed to hold that man and apologize as he should've before. It was his fault that Sebastian Moran was dead and he knew that that was one life and death that he could never live with on his newly formed conscience.

Everything was hazy, as though the edges of his world had been softened somehow which only served as a painful reminder of how viciously barbed it really was. He felt like an eternity had gone by as he floated in this timeless state of suspension. He felt neither here nor there.

Occasionally he would feel panicked because he knew he had to be somewhere and doing something but he couldn't really recall what. Finally from the ether a voice floated into his consciousness.

"Jim, are you able to hear me? Move your fingers if so."

He tried to move his fingers but he wasn't sure if he had. He felt an acute pain on his face then which was followed by a stinging sensation. He slowly tried to open his eyes and found he was able to but then almost immediately wished he was unconscious again.

He was in agony, every single nerve ending in his body felt as if it were on fire. From the roots of his hair to tips of his toes every square inch was in complete and utter distress. He'd never felt pain like this in his life.

"That's a boy Jimmy. Open those beautiful brown eyes for me. You know, I don't want to hurt you, not really. I do, however, want to _kill_ you."

Jim had finally opened his eyes completely and the handsome face of Carl swam into view. The sneer that he wore was nothing short of maniacal. Jim felt properly frightened for the very first time ever.

"You see Jim, I have devoted my entire life, which I only barely escaped with, to getting to you one day. Since I recovered and came out of the coma, a day has not passed during which my every thought wasn't of you. I would think and obsess over you and then I'd go to sleep and beg for a reprieve from the constant pain but alas! Your perfect Irish face would haunt my very dreams!"

Jim tried to speak now but he still couldn't make a sound escape his throat. Carl frowned down at him and Jim felt a more pronounced searing pain on his arm.

"Huh, I find it quite comical that I once abhorred the idea of cutting you while now....well, now it's the most glorious feeling in the world."

Finally, through the pain he was able to croak out a single word. "How?"

Carl raised his eyebrows and looked Jim squarely in the eyes. He paused in what he was doing, cutting Jim, and thought momentarily.

"How? Oh! I'm shocked you didn't work it out yet, you've truly gotten dull. I thought it was fairly obvious... Andrea helped me. You shouldn't've overlooked her, darling."

He shook his head sadly then flicked the blade closed and stood up. He leaned down and kissed Jim gently on his mouth but before turning to leave he looked at him oddly and slapped him once more across the face plunging him back into darkness and welcomed solitude but the very last words he heard were, "I'm not a phantom my love but I promise you, by the end you'll wish I was."


	26. Regret

He was floating. He felt as if he were gliding along on a cloud and he didn't recognize any of his surroundings. It was a wonderful sensation and he didn't want it to end. He felt vaguely that pain and misery lay behind him somewhere. Suddenly however he began seeing and noticing things that he did recognize.

Without warning he was standing unnoticed in his old bedroom of the flat which he had once shared with Carl. He and Carl were in bed under the covers and they didn't even look up at him when he suddenly materialized in their midst. He rationalized then that this must obviously be a dream. He remembered this day though, he'd meant to forget it but here it was tucked away safely in his subconscious.

It was shortly after they'd returned from their lake holiday and things couldn't've been better between the two. Carl had listened as Jim had confessed to murdering his step-father all those years ago and he'd miraculously embraced Jim even more for it. He'd understood what needed doing and he didn't pass his own judgment on him for taking matters into his own hands. Jim was baffled by the acceptance but also so very grateful for having been able to get that off of his chest.

Now as he watched from a corner of the room he felt...empty. He was sure that this memory should inspire some warm feelings of happiness but it didn't. Perhaps he shouldn't have discounted Carl so easily and quickly, he had made Jim marginally happy for a time. Perhaps he should've given him a proper chance. Sadly it was too late now. 

He watched as Carl laid in his arms, his dirty-blonde hair was a mess and splayed on his chest, he looked positively content as the watery sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains. Jim's dark hair was equally messed and he recognized the look on his own face. He remembered that this was the moment in time when he felt himself truly falling in love, such as it was. He remembered the fear that he'd felt at the thought. He'd never trusted another human being one hundred per cent and he wasn't  sure he knew how.

Carl's long fingers were lazily tracing patterns on his stomach and would occasionally slide lower to the faint trail of dark hair at his navel. He would practically melt at the touch and then become disappointed when he'd not go any further.

"Love?" Carl asked breaking the comfortable silence.  Jim's eyes snapped open as he'd been contentedly dozing.

"Yes? What is it?"

Carl rolled over so he was able to look at Jim and he rested his chin on his chest.

"I can't help thinking we had such a lovely weekend at the lake and I-well, I just fear that it will end once we are back to everyday life and such."

Jim chuckled and smoothed Carl's hair with his hand.

"You worry far too much my dear! Of course nothing will change. What's gotten into you?"

Carl looked a little annoyed but it passed quickly and then he smiled brilliantly as he ducked his head and began kissing Jim's chest. Jim took a deep breath and closed his eyes allowing Carl free reign. He took the chance greedily and moved so that he was straddling Jim and he leaned down to kiss his neck and jaw. He moved slowly down to his chest again focusing on each nipple specifically taking his time as he licked the sensitive skin and sucked just enough to cause Jim to inhale sharply.

Carl then scooted himself down lower so that he was under the blankets and he was level with Jim's now erect penis. He trailed his long fingers over the skin of his groin and then lazily slid his tongue up and down the length once or twice. It didn't take very long for Jim to decide that things were not moving at a pace he found satisfactory. He grabbed Carl by his slim shoulders and pulled him firmly so that he was lying on top of Jim and he brought their mouths together.

He enjoyed the true feeling, the sensation of being absolutely bound to one person. They carried on kissing one another for some time until Carl took the initiative once again and slid lower, his erection rubbing against Jim's as he did. Jim took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he felt Carl's tongue sliding up and down his cock. Finally after what felt like an eternity he slid the whole thing in his mouth, all the way to the back. He kept it there for just a second and then he began bobbing his head as he sucked with all he had. Jim had lifted his hips slightly from the bed and arched his back.

Finally he thought he'd not be able to take it much longer so he grabbed Carl by his shoulders once more and pulled him up. He then flipped him so he was on his back and Jim took his now slick cock and slid it slowly inside Carl. They both gasped with pleasure and a slow smile spread across Jim's face. He began thrusting then and Carl had brought his hand to his own hard-on and began stroking erratically.

The only sound in the room for a while was the creaking of the springs and the headboard hitting the wall mixed with their ragged breathing. Finally Jim began moving faster and just as Carl came all over his own flat stomach he climaxed as well falling on top of Carl in his post orgasm weakness. They both giggled breathlessly and when Jim looked up he knew then and there that they couldn't be together forever no matter how much he wished it otherwise. Carl was too innocent to stay with him and too easily influenced.

* * *

 

The room suddenly disappeared and he felt the floating sensation once more. This time it unfortunately ended in unpleasant circumstances. He opened his eyes weakly and saw that it was daylight, probably very early in the morning. The weak sunlight could barely brighten the whole room. He looked around and saw that he was in his own sitting room in his flat in London, as he tried to sit up he began recalling the events from the previous evening in painful clarity. His entire body hurt as though he'd been hit by a train.

When he was finally able to make his way into a sitting position he looked down and saw that he was wearing his dark trousers from the previous day but his shirt seemed to be missing. His torso and arms and hands were bloody, bruised and cut. He imagined his face was a right mess as well. He ran an aching hand through his dark hair hoping to tame it down. He'd closed his eyes again briefly and as he opened them he saw him standing there leaning against the door frame, the picture of smugness.

"Good morning my love. Care for some tea? No of course you don't. You don't take breakfast, am I right?"

Jim smiled arrogantly, at least he hoped it came off as arrogant as that's what he'd meant.

"No, I don't take breakfast, nor do I drink tea. Please, don't hesitate to make yourself at home."

He gestured with his hand all around the place. Carl swaggered over to where he was sat on the sofa and he stood just before him. He was dressed today in dark trousers and a light colored sweater with the collar of a white button up showing at his neck. He looked positively handsome and Jim could even appreciate the exact reason he fell in love with this man initially. He didn't take his eyes off of him however as he stood looking down on Jim.

"We have some things to discuss darling. I do hope I'm not keeping you from anything terribly _pressing_?"

Jim chuckled at the sarcasm and shook his head. "Oh, please don't concern yourself about my business affairs, I _assure_ you they are well tended. What is that you'd like to discuss?"

Carl had sat next to him on the sofa and Jim was wary, rightly so. He just sat drinking his tea thoughtfully for a bit until he finally placed it on the side table and then turned slightly to gaze at Jim. His eyes seemed less cold than they had the night before, he seemed saddened as he reached a hand over to gently caress Jim's wrist.

"I never really wanted to hurt you, I told you that. D'you remember?"

Jim nodded slowly.

"Then why'd you force me? This is your fault and you really can't pretend it isn't. I loved you, _Jesus Christ,_ I fucking loved you."

Jim continued to watch silently, he could see that Carl wasn't finished and he was certain that the longer he spoke the longer he got to live so he wasn't about to interrupt.

"You know, most people would've run like hell when their lover confided in them that they'd murdered their step-dad when they were a child. Do you recall my reaction? I wasn't bothered because the bastard deserved it, I understood that. I understood _you_ but you never could see that."

He moved a bit closer and Jim stiffened momentarily. Carl never let go of his hand.

"You were always so certain that you were the cleverest in the land. That was your weakness, in the end. You got _lazy_ , like a fattened spider who believes that none will threaten him because his web is the largest and most intricate. The more swollen you became the less you were able to see. It's laughable that Andrea was able to simply infiltrate your network. You embraced her...you welcomed her, hell, you even _fucked_ her."

Here he laughed and shook his head.

"I'm actually disappointed in you Jim Moriarty. I held you in such high esteem and you've let me down. You're not even very clever at the end of it all."

Jim wanted to speak up, his pride was beginning to get the better of him but he knew that he must wait. He had to make his moment count if he stood even the slimmest chance of getting out of this with his life. So he waited.

"After I was taken to hospital when you tried to poison me it was really extraordinarily lucky that Andrea happened to be there. I wasn't dead but I was damn close, you weren't playing around. I saw that then. She tended to me and was able to keep the entire thing hushed up, the very last thing I wanted was you realizing that you'd failed. I must admit that I shocked even myself with my astounding patience."

He sighed and stood up and began pacing the room with his back to the sofa. Jim leaned back into the cushions needing the relief. He was in immense pain and he felt sure that he had a broken rib or two. When Carl turned back around however Jim was the picture of calm, he'd not let him win that way.

"I gave you everything. **_EVERYTHING_**! Do you understand that? Suddenly Sebastian fucking Moran comes along and I mean nothing to you. **_NOTHING_**! What've I done to deserve this? Can you answer that?"

Jim sighed and closed his eyes for a second against the pounding in his head.

"Carl, don't you think you might be over reacting just a _teensy_ bit to a wee broken heart?"

He stood up now because he knew that this was going to anger him and he wanted to be somewhat prepared. He was correct Carl flew at him and grabbed him by his throat cutting off his next snide remark.

"Don't. You. Fucking. Dare. Do you hear me? You smug Irish bastard, don't you dare."

Jim managed to sneer even in this compromised position and he felt Carl's fingers digging deeper into the flesh of his throat. After a second longer he let him go and Jim rubbed the skin on his neck.

"That's why." He croaked out. "That right there is why. Why we never could've been more. Never could've done more. You've got a right Irish temper and it will destroy you. Carl, look at me love. I'll not insult you by pretending to apologize apparently I've never given you enough credit. You don't have to do this though... It's not as easy as you may think it is to take a life."

Carl scoffed at the last remark. "D'you think I'll hesitate to end _your_ life? Not for one second my love. I just need to understand _why_. Was there anything I could've done that would've made you love me or was I always just a mere pawn in your very fucked up game of chess?"

Jim thought about it for a moment, his eyes downcast, gazing at the dark hardwood floor. He knew he had to measure his words very carefully here because Carl was about at his snapping point. His voice was low as he answered.

"You were _never_ just a pawn to me, _never_. You came into my life at a very particular time, a time when I needed you more than the air I breathed. Unfortunately, some air can go stale and you knew too much."

He shrugged and realized he truly didn't care what happened next. Carl came right up to him now and Jim saw the glint of the steel blade as he flicked it open. He was unafraid.

"Go on, do it. You think you can, I _dare_ you." He raised his eyebrows at him. "Before you do though, tell me, did my tiger put up a decent fight at least?"

Carl looked annoyed and he hesitated, Jim thought to grab for the knife but he knew he was too weak to really do anything so he waited. Carl stepped in closer so that he could put his mouth right to Jim's ear.

"Your _tiger_ has been purring in my lap for a very long time now only you've been too blind to notice."

Then Jim was unhappily aware of the blade in his stomach and his whole world tilted on it's axis and went black. The very last thing he saw was Carl's porcelain like face with tears streaming down each cheek.

"I'm so sorry."


	27. Identities

Sebastian and Andy made their way down the darkened and grimy corridor to the waiting car. He hadn't even bothered to put his gun away, it didn't really matter in this neighborhood and he wasn't about to take any chances. He needed to get to Jim as soon as possible. Every time he thought about how badly he'd fucked up he felt a crushing weight on his chest and he couldn't breathe. He'd been such an _idiot_ letting him go to his flat alone.

Once they were in the car and he told the driver where to take them he pulled out his mobile again. He dialed Jim's number automatically not really expecting an answer and then he checked his texts also not anticipating a response to his numerous messages. Finally he sighed and turned to Andy who was huddled against the door with tears streaming silently down her face.

"Talk." He said to her, his voice like ice.

She blinked in confusion and then wiped the tears away from her battered face.

"I-I don't know what you want me to tell you B-Bastian."

He rolled his eyes praying for patience and restraint. "I want the truth Andy. The whole fuckin' story. Talk."

She took a moment longer before answering and he was growing more and more annoyed; any trace of sympathy or compassion that he'd felt toward her before had fled with lightning speed. He only wanted answers now and he'd not hesitate to get them in any way he must.

"Bastian, you've gotta believe me that I never knew this was gonna happen. I thought I was just helping Carl and he'd needed it. Jim tried to _kill_ him. What was I supposed to do?"

Sebastian's left hand had curled into a fist where it rested on his knee and he was getting nearer to the end of his tether.

"Andrea, I am trying, with _immense_ difficulty, to restrain myself. I don't want to kill you but so help me I fuckin' will if you don't give me facts and save your god damn excuses because I assure you I couldn't fuckin' care less."

His voice had not risen in volume instead it got lower and deadlier as he spoke and the look of terror in her green eyes was all the satisfaction he needed. He was angry, angrier than he'd ever been. He was annoyed and embarrassed at his own stupidity, he was furious at the way she'd kept this information from him for so long. Mostly however he was just tired, tired of not being in control of his own destiny, tired of being a stupid pawn used to do everyone else's bidding. No more. Things were about to change.

"Fine, no excuses."

She said as she took a deep breath before launching into her story. "When Jim attempted to _murder_ Carl it just so happened that I was studying for my medical exams and it was pure luck that I was in the trauma unit when he was brought in that day.  I won't bore you with details but he was saved and I was able to convince a few key people to keep it all hushed up. I knew that Jim must never find out, I couldn't tell a soul. Not even you."

Sebastian was listening intently. He remembered the day Carl had ' _died_ ' because she'd phoned him in hysterics. She was so distraught that he'd had a difficult time trying to figure out what she was saying. Now he realized with anger that it was all an act. He chuckled dryly.

"You're in the wrong profession, you are."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry?"

He laughed again. "Ya should've been in films, you can really put on an act."

Now she laughed once, humorlessly and said under her breath, "You've no idea."

"What was that?" He asked, having not caught her last remark.

"Nothing." She replied hurriedly as she fidgeted with the material of her blouse. "Anyway, once he was released from hospital you had already gone off trying to get yourself blown up and I was living on me own then so he came and stayed until he was fully recovered. It took an extraordinarily long time and my caring for him and keeping him secret was a lot of work.  I don't care though, I'd do it again if I had to. It wasn't fair what Jim tried to do to him."

Her voice had gone defiant at the end and Sebastian wondered who it was for. Her eyes were shining in the darkness of the sedan as they reflected the yellow glow from the passing street lamps. He looked out the window trying to gauge their location in respect to Jim's flat, his anxiety was growing by the second.

"As furious as I was about Jim meaning to murder Carl I never wanted Carl to take his revenge in this manner and....and, well we argued. More and more recently we've been disagreeing about everything and then when I saw you in New York and I realized that he'd cast his spell on you I phoned Carl and told him that it was over. I wasn't going to help anymore because I couldn't...couldn't...hurt you."

A tear ran down each cheek as she finished speaking. Sebastian knew he should feel something towards this woman but he simply didn't. He didn't feel anger any longer nor did he feel sad by what she'd allowed herself to become. He simply felt nothing in regards to her. Jim was another story entirely. They were only a few blocks from his flat and Sebastian wanted to jump out of the car and run the remaining distance, he felt he'd get there faster.

He was lost in his own mind and he only vaguely registered Andy leaning forward and speaking a soft word to the driver. He didn't really have time to care, his gun was still in his right hand. He needed the cold metal reassurance that it offered.

"So, it was you helping to deliver all those little messages to Jim then?"

She nodded, her eyes downcast.

"Did- did you leave the envelope for me in the hotel?"

Her eyes flicked to his and they were confused as she shook her head slowly.

"No... I had nothing to do with sending anything to you. He promised he'd not involve you."

Sebastian was amused. "Ya can't be that fuckin' thick Andy, tell me your not. How close I am to Jim you had to know he'd come at me."

He saw anger flash briefly in her eyes and then it was gone as quickly as it came. His impatience was growing by the second.

"What're ya gonna do now Bastian? What're ya gonna do with me?" She asked uncertainly.

He wasn't looking at her, he was staring out of the window, his mind racing.

"I dunno. I know I'm going to get to Jim and make sure he's alright and then...I dunno."

He was in the process of turning to look at her when he heard the sharp snick of a safety being released and he felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed painfully to his inner thigh. He slowly looked down at his crotch then deliberately back up to make eye contact with Andy. He was about to switch off the safety on his own weapon when she shook her head and held out her free hand.

"I'll blow your balls off before you even have a chance sweetheart. Give it here. That's a good boy."

He hesitantly placed the gun in her hand. All traces of sadness or remorse had fled and it seemed as if an entirely different person was sitting beside him sneering.  She kept the gun pressed painfully against his groin and he wanted to move but he didn't dare. He didn't recognize the person behind those eyes and he wasn't risking it.

"Where'd ya hide that then?" He asked nodding down at his lap.

She smirked. "Does it really matter? You wouldn't've thought to look for it anyway. That's your fault Bastian. You just love rescuing the damsel in distress. That's why you've always come running to me when I've been in trouble. That's precisely why you were running to him tonight. Sadly you'll be too late to save him from his fate. You must admit though, he does deserve to suffer a bit."

Sebastian shook his head. "You're wrong Andy. You know you are. Don't do this."

She laughed heartily. "Oh, you're so lovely. Look at you. You care about him don't you? You care deeply for him. Do you know what he's _capable_ of? What he's _already_ done?"

As she was speaking the car rolled to a stop in an underground parking garage. Sebastian had been conveniently preoccupied so he had no idea where they were now.  There were only two other cars that were immediately visible and he felt deep in his gut that he most likely wasn't walking out of here alive. He'd make his last moments count then he decided. So help him he'd not give up without a fight. She dug the gun deeper into his groin.

"Go on get out. Don't try anything stupid either. You won't get far."

He did as he was told. When he was standing outside breathing the fumes of gasoline and oil mixed with the crisp night air he tried desperately to come up with a plan. His mind was pathetically blank. She came around and had the driver zip tie his hands in front of him. He prayed that she'd forgotten the knife in his pocket. So far it seemed she had. He had a chance he thought as he leaned against the vehicle.

She eyed him hungrily. "D'you know where we are?"

He shook his head. "We're just beneath your lover's building, I'm surprised at you.  We are going to go up together. Carl had other plans for you but I've changed my mind. I'd much prefer if Mr. Moriarty were to witness me killing you."

Sebastian kept his eyes on her as she stepped closer to him. All traces of the scared little girl she'd been in that dumpy flat were gone.  Her injuries didn't even look so bad in the weak neon lighting of the garage. The blood on her blouse and jeans only served to make her appear more dangerous.  Her high heels echoed on the concrete floor as she approached and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"No one thinks about me Sebastian. No one ever considers for one teeny second that I might have my very own ambitions. No. I'm just another pussy for you to get off with when you feel like, for Jim to get off with when he feels like. The problem with all of you is that you spend far too much time thinking with your dicks. It's sad really."

She had slipped her one hand inside the waist of his jeans while the other held the gun firmly in his abdomen. She leaned up and kissed him fully on the mouth but just before crushing his lips with her own she whispered in a deadly soft voice.

"I want to be sure that the very last sensation you ever experience is the the thrill of my lips on yours. I want you to know that you're the one who poisoned them.  D'you think you can go to your grave with that knowledge?  I think we're going to find out."

She tugged at his jeans and pulled him so they were pressed together and she kissed him so passionately that he found he was having difficulty breathing.  She bit his tongue and nipped at his lips and then finally backed away grinning curiously.

"That's not all my dear, just a prelude." She sighed and brushed her hair over her shoulder saying, "Oh, I should've done this ages ago.  It feels wonderful to finally have an identity.  Time to go have a chat with our _dearest_ Mr. Moriarty."


	28. The Abyss

Sebastian grudgingly followed Andy from the parking garage. As they neared the front of the structure he was able to glimpse a faint lightening of the night sky indicating that dawn wasn't far off. At least he knew why his body felt the way it did, as though he was walking in quicksand and couldn't make himself go faster no matter how hard he tried. He felt trapped in a nightmare and he guessed he kind of was.

He kept glancing round and wondered why it was so desolate. It was an enormous building with many occupants yet there was a suspicious lack of vehicles. His brain was currently too preoccupied however with trying to figure a way out of this mess. The driver who'd been with them all night was silently following and Sebastian knew he had a gun concealed beneath his overcoat because he'd not done a very good job of _actually_ concealing it.   As they reached the garage lift Andy pressed the button and turned to him smiling sweetly. He felt sick. 

"How'd you let yourself get here Bastian?" She asked narrowing her eyes and almost sounding familiar once more.

"Why're you so bitter Andrea?" He responded using her full name and enjoying the irritation that showed on her face. 

She stepped right up to him now and stared him down icily. "You know, you're really beautiful, Sebastian Moran.  You're singularly well made with perfect bone structure, striking eyes, full lips," She trailed her finger down along his jaw line as she spoke. "But you're remarkably stupid. I'm not bitter my dear, no, not at all. I'm simply taking what I'm owed."

He smiled widely. "Yeah? Go on then, what's that? What do you fancy that you're 'owed'?" 

She kept her hand gently on his face for just a second and then she dropped it back to her side and looked over her shoulder. Suddenly she lifted it again and slapped him across the face so hard that it echoed and he could feel the stinging for a long time afterward. 

"Respect." Was all she answered before stepping into the lift. 

Sebastian followed with a nudge from the man in the suit. He wondered absently who the guy was. He guessed it didn't really matter. Once in the lift he turned to her holding his zip-tied hands out in a placating gesture. 

"I'm not trying to upset you Andy, truly I'm not. I honestly want you to listen to me. I don't think you understand what you're mixing yourself up in." 

She watched him keenly for a minute and then she hit the stop button on the lighted panel. The tension and the uncertainty in the small box of a lift was nearly unbearable. He wondered how long she'd been this person, he questioned if she'd been this person when he'd been fully in her life many years ago. He was realizing that his perception of character was not as good as he had originally thought. 

"When we first met, Bastian, we were both so young but, unfortunately, neither of us were as carefree as we should've been. You had your shitty upbringing while I had mine but we didn't use those excuses to be horrible people. We were good once, don't you think?  Can you even recall?" She paused thoughtfully, "From the moment I first laid eyes on you I was in love and...I don't know, maybe you fancied me a little bit. I would've and I _did_ go to the ends of the earth for you but it was never enough. _I_ was never enough. I was right in front of you and yet you always looked right through me. I'm not whining or complaining and that is most certainly _not_ why I'm doing this now but you've needed to hear that." 

She paused and brushed a strand of her red hair from her face. He waited patiently, not that he had any other choice.

"This started as me helping Carl, he deserved to exact his revenge and even _you_ can't argue that. It's now turned into something else entirely. It's time that you and every other man in my life started to show me the respect I deserve and not just because I'm a woman but because I've fucking achieved it. None of you, not Carl, not Jim and most certainly not you would be alive right now if not for me." 

Sebastian took a deep, weary breath and was about to speak when she cut him off.

"The game is over, each and every one of you have lost. I know now that you and I could never have been together and that's okay but I can't let you carry on nor can I allow that _psychopath_ up there to continue either. It's over." 

Sebastian had cast his eyes downward until the very end then at the word ' _psychopath_ ' they snapped back to her face going as cold as steel. 

In a low voice he said, "He's not a psychopath." 

She raised her eyebrows in amusement. "I'm sorry?" She asked.

He stepped forward to close the distance between them. " _I said... he's... not... a... psychopath_." 

She laughed and he was furious. He hadn't slept in nearly twenty four hours and he could feel his extra reserve of adrenaline beginning to kick in. His eye was twitching imperceptibly but he knew what it indicated and the low buzzing in his ears was beginning. He was vaguely aware of the suit moving to pull out his gun but he didn't pay him any mind. Shoving Andy out of his way with his shoulder he used his restrained hand to jab the button to make the lift move again. 

They ascended the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the level of the lobby they all three stepped out and turned the corner for the lifts that would take them to the condos. Once again he was struck by the curious absence of people; not even the ever-present door-man was in sight. 

Once inside this lift Sebastian could've sworn that he could feel the electricity crackling in the close space. He'd not lie down and allow this to happen though even if he didn't have a fully formed plan. He turned casually to look out of the glass enclosure over the waking city of London. The sky was turning an early morning shade of shell pink and it looked chilly. He was so tired but there was no way that he'd lower his guard now, he was aware of every minute detail, every movement and breath of air inside the lift. 

Finally, the bell chimed signaling their floor and as they stepped out and into the small hallway before Jim's sprawling pent-house Sebastian had managed to get his hand in his pocket and slip out the knife unnoticed. Andrea went in first and then Sebastian, followed by the apparently hired gun. Her heels clicked on the marble floor of the foyer and Sebastian heard her gasp as she turned the corner to enter the sitting room. He felt like he'd had a bucket of ice water dumped over him. 

" _Carl_!" She shouted and Sebastian didn't give a damn for his own safety then as he pushed past her, shoving her into the wall as he did and saw Carl kneeling on the floor, holding Jim's limp body and looking horrified. Sebastian felt sick to his stomach. 

He flicked open the blade and he didn't care that his hands were zip-tied together, he decided that he'd kill everyone in this room if he must and so be it if he went too. There was blood everywhere and Jim's body was battered; suddenly the only other person in the room as far as Sebastian was concerned was Carl and he needed to make him pay for what he'd done. Sebastian had finally realized what it felt like to love someone and not want to be separated from them and now he'd been ripped violently from him. The pain and despair were raw and biting. He was tired of it all, he was _exhausted_ with the constant battle that was his life. He was done. 

He took note of Andy against the wall with her hand to her mouth, evidently no longer as confident as she'd been. He could feel the man in the suit coming up behind him to stop him and he instinctively flung his elbow backwards to connect sickeningly with the guy's nose and he heard the satisfying crunch as he hit his mark. 

"Get up." He said through clenched teeth to Carl. 

Carl either ignored him or he _couldn't_ respond because he continued to hold Jim's body on the floor. Even while in the military Sebastian had never wanted to kill a man more than he did now. He almost couldn't see properly through the haze of his rage. He could hear Andy in the background babbling incoherently. He counted silently to ten and then he advanced on Carl grabbing the front of his bloodstained sweater and yanking him to his feet bringing the switchblade to his jugular.

"I swear to you, I _will_ fucking finish what he started. You should've died once and fucking stayed dead."

Carl looked terrified and his eyes were red and blood shot but he didn't struggle, it seemed he'd given in to his fate at last. Any sane person would've probably been put off but Sebastian had passed that threshold a long time ago. He took Carl and threw him against the wall then and held him in place. He could hear Andy yelling at him and telling him to stop. He ignored her. 

"I've always known that you were a worthless piece of shit. You never deserved him, _never_!" 

He released his grip slightly only to bring his elbow around to Carl's temple and send him staggering. He wasn't finished either, when he was stumbling Sebastian brought his knee up to connect with his sternum and cause him to double over. He wanted him to suffer but he also wanted this to be over because he was exhausted and his brain was beginning to crack and allow him to process the fact that Jim was dead. Dead and not coming back. 

Just as Carl was struggling to stand back up Sebastian brought the knife around and with all of his force plunged it into his side and he knew immediately that he'd done what he needed. He watched with satisfaction as Carl's mouth silently formed an "oh." Then the light faded from those crystal blue eyes like a shade being drawn. Sebastian dug the blade in deeper and then yanked it free and let the man fall limply to the floor.   Just before he did so however Andy had decided to get involved and he heard the sound of a gun being cocked a split second before he felt the searing pain of a bullet passing through his right shoulder and sending him staggering forward. 

It seemed to happen in slow motion and suddenly he was on his knees on the floor beside Jim's lifeless body. He stayed that way staring aimlessly and hunched over, refusing to give in yet as he reached for Jim's cold, white hand. 

He heard a scuffling behind him and Andy's muffled shouts but he couldn't even muster the energy to turn and see what was happening. He had blood on his hands and he could feel it running down his arm as he finally slumped forward to lie next to Jim and await the blissful release of death, he'd welcome it like an old friend. He was so tired. 

There were scurrying footsteps all around them but as far as he was concerned this moment only contained him and the man whom he'd only just realized that he needed more than anything in the world. He was thankful that the next time he closed his eyes he wouldn't be opening them again because he didn't want to awake to a world that no longer contained Jim Moriarty. He felt the warmth of his tears as they slid down his cheeks silently.

He laid on his side then ignoring the commotion around him and gazing at the face he adored and which was beautiful and perfect even in death. He mumbled, _"I'm sorry."_  before finally closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to swallow him whole and stop him feeling the crushing weight of grief which he was currently feeling. The very last thing he felt however was an icily cold hand tighten it's grip within his bound and bloody ones then his world disappeared.


	29. Tales

  Those dark eyes were shining with humor in the low lighting and Sebastian was positively smitten. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's face. His high forehead and perfectly groomed hairline combined with his defined cheekbones gave him a regal appearance which was why Sebastian assumed that people simply deferred to him. He couldn't even comprehend how much he adored this man. The only thing that was important in his life was making Jim happy. He'd do anything he must to achieve that and he knew that now with unshakable certainty.

Jim unbuttoned his suit coat as he leaned forward across the table, smiling widely, and took Sebastian's hand in his own. They'd consumed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon between them and his head was swimming pleasantly. 

"Thank you, my love, for a remarkable evening."

Sebastian could feel himself grinning stupidly but he didn't care. There was no where else in the world that he'd rather be and not a soul that he'd rather be with. He answered in a low voice, "The evening is still young." Then he took a sip of his wine and watched as Jim's eyes twinkled merrily.

He just couldn't believe his luck that this man chose him out of all the people in the world. The evening was the most pleasant one he could remember in his entire life as they sat in the exquisite Italian bistro in Venice. Suddenly, however, he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder and he pulled his hand back quickly to grip the spot tightly. Jim's face was concerned as he watched from across the small table. The restaurant began to go hazy at the edges and Sebastian was unable to focus his vision again.

The pain in his shoulder was making him feel sick and at the same time Jim's form seemed to be disappearing and he looked terrified. Sebastian reached his hands desperately for Jim to hold on to him but he couldn't reach his shimmering form.  He blinked a few times and then when he opened his eyes he realized that he was no longer in that cozy restaurant in Italy, he was some place much less pleasant.

He could only think of one thing however, one name was being shouted painfully within his aching skull. " _Jim_." He mumbled as he tried unsuccessfully to sit up. A warm hand on his shoulder gently pressed him back into the mattress. He was suddenly aware then of all the beeping and the numerous wires connected to him.

"Mr. Moran, you need to lie down and not get worked up."

"Where is he? I need to see him, is he alright?"

Davion looked nervous as he glanced around the small, sterile room.

"Mr. Moran, please try and get some rest. You've been shot and it's a miracle that you're alive."

He moved to fiddle with the tap for the morphine but Sebastian caught the man's wrist deftly before he could touch a single button.

"Tell me where Jim is." He growled through clenched teeth as he tried to fight the throbbing pain in his shoulder.

Davion sighed in exasperation and turned to sit in one of the hard plastic chairs. He had the look of a man going to his execution and Sebastian was sure it wasn't a good omen but he was determined to know what happened to Jim-no matter what.

"First off, he's alive but only just. It was really lucky for both of you that I turned up when I did. Unfortunately however, Mr. Powers was a bit more clever than I think anyone knew. The knife he used to stab James had been doused with an unknown toxin. Apparently the knife wound alone would not have been fatal and I'm sure he knew that which is why he took the precaution of poisoning James as well."

Sebastian's head was spinning as he tried to understand what he was being told. He recalled bits and pieces but he was having a difficult time just now because of the pain in his shoulder. He didn't want more morphine though because he did not want his brain to become even more clouded.

"Are you alright?" Davion asked, worry etched all over his features.

Sebastian nodded curtly. "Go on. Tell me the rest."

He hesitated for only a moment more before realizing that it didn't matter what he said or did that Sebastian was determined to hear the whole story.

"Carl's dead," seeing the look on Sebastian's face he held up his hand to keep him silent, "He's really dead. I checked. It's being called self defense on your part and since there are no witnesses to say otherwise you should be fine."

Sebastian closed his eyes against the pain momentarily. When he opened them he swallowed and asked, "Where is he?"

"He's in critical care. The doctors are keeping him in a coma for now and they say he's not experiencing any pain since they're closely monitoring his brain activity." He waited to gauge Sebastian's reaction before continuing. "You must prepare yourself though.  He may not make it and I need you to understand that possibility. While you were in New York he phoned me and requested that I update some documents. He wants you managing his fighters, you and you alone. He had wanted you to fight for him but I think he's realized that you're not getting back in the ring. Regardless of what happens to him in the next twenty four hours his boxing side of the business is yours, it's in _your_ name."

Sebastian was silent, he couldn't even believe what he was hearing. He'd only known Jim for a short time but the man had given him complete control over this enormously expensive side of his business. Of course Sebastian would run it perfectly but it was just outrageous that the man trusted him that much. He felt a lump in his throat and he closed his eyes against the stinging tears. After a moment he felt more composed he opened his eyes again and gazed frankly at Davion.

"Where's Andrea?"

Again Davion hesitated but then he stood and walked to the window.

"She's in custody. She will very likely spend a long time in prison."

Sebastian blinked in confusion, he understood what she'd attempted to do but he wasn't sure it warranted a lengthy prison sentence.

"I'm sorry?"

Davion turned back to look at him, he stood with his hands in his trouser pockets and Sebastian noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

"She'd been extorting James for years, anonymously or- at least she thought she was unknown to us. Not much slips past the shrewd mind of James Moriarty. I think you know that."

Sebastian nodded. Davion came over to him now and put a consoling hand on his uninjured shoulder.

"Get some rest Sebastian. We'll face what comes in the morning."

He turned to leave then but not before turning the tap on his morphine and it was almost immediately that Sebastian began to doze off. The pain in his shoulder had lessened considerably and he rested fitfully until he woke several hours later. It was properly dark now and he wondered dumbly how long he'd been asleep. He sat up with a groan and he put his hand on his shoulder to try and control the pain.

He spent a few minutes disconnecting himself from all the wires and needles in his veins. He sat in the darkness then for a moment before standing unsteadily. He had to bite his tongue against the pain in his shoulder. When he finally felt stable enough he left the room and made his way for the critical care unit. It wasn't difficult to locate and Jim was fairly simple to find as well.

Sebastian approached his bed in the nearly empty ward and he was struck by how small the man looked. He had wires coming out of everywhere and the bruising and swelling on his beautiful face was nearly unbearable to look upon.  Sebastian felt clammy and weak so he sat heavily in the hard plastic chair near the bed and took a few deep breaths.

He leaned over painfully and took Jim's icy cold hand in his and held it firmly hoping to convey his love. It was so quiet here except for the beeping of the machines and the occasional page of a doctor over the intercom.

"Jim, I, uh... I really hope you can hear me. I feel kind of, um, stupid...but, well...I dunno what I'm trying to say. I dunno. I guess I-uh- I need you to hang on. We aren't through yet."

He shook his head feeling ridiculous. He had no way of knowing if Jim could hear him or if it would even matter if he could. He decided he didn't care. Taking a deep breath he continued, he was determined to share his tale.

"I wonder if you remember, I'm sure you do, the time you asked me about my tattoos. I told you one day I'd tell you the story behind the art. I hope you're listening because I'm making good on that promise now." He watched Jim's face for any sign of understanding. There was nothing.

"After me mam died- _was murdered in cold blood_ \- I left home. I'm sure you know most of that story but I've never talked about it. I was angry Jim. I've never been more angry in my life and I never thought I would be again..."

He paused to gather himself once again. "Well, when I finally had saved enough for the ink I decided I needed something to memorialize my mother. She was the most lovely person. She always supported me and never told me I was a worthless piece of shit the way my father did. She was sweet and loving and encouraging. She wasn't defined simply by her family though, she was fiercely intelligent and had an eye for art." He sighed wistfully, "a picture that she sketched before she was murdered inspired the idea behind the silvery, pure angel wing. In a way I think she had an idea of her fate because she drew this a month before her death. It always helped me believe that she had gone to a better a place, a place where she couldn't feel pain."

He stopped speaking and watched Jim for a while then. He could feel someone standing behind him but he was suddenly so weary that he didn't care. He didn't even turn when the plump older woman came up behind him and put a hand on his left shoulder gently.

"Are ya okay, love? I think ya know you're not supposed to be here but I'll let you be if you're okay."

He still didn't turn around, he just shook his head slowly.

"I'm not- I'm not okay ma'am, not even a little bit but I can't leave. I'm sorry."

She tightened her grip a little and then he heard the squeak of her nursing shoes as she turned to walk away. He was thankful that she didn't argue.

"The tattoo on my left arm is another story entirely. It's meant to reflect me. It's a grisly imitation to the pure, perfect angel that was my mother. The wing is blackened and withered just as my heart is blackened and withered. There was a time when I thought for absolutely certain that I would never be capable of loving again but that changed. Jim, that all changed and... _please_. I just- I don't know what to say but I'm _begging_ you, please don't leave me."

He sat and gazed longingly at the still features of the man who meant more to him than his own life for a long while then. He wasn't a man of faith, he never had been, but he prayed to many deities that night and hoped that someone- _anyone_ -would hear him.

Very early the following morning he was shuffled away so the doctors could reach the bed to find out what was causing all the incessant beeping. He was groggy from sleep and in immense pain but he didn't want to be too far from Jim's side. Finally they wheeled him away to surgery and Sebastian was left standing feeling horrified and sick. It would be many hours before the surgeon came to his room, where he'd been sent, to tell him of Jim's fate.


	30. Epilogue

_One year later: the lake house_

"You know Sebastian, I'm not sorry. It's a bit tragic that it cost so much for us to get here, to this result but in the end I think it was worth it."

Sebastian smirked as he tightened his grip on the smaller man.

"You're insane, d'you know that?"

Jim tilted his head up to look into Sebastian's grey eyes.

"D'you really think so? I disagree. I'm merely motivated. There's a line between the two, it may be a very fine line indeed but it is there and I've not crossed it."

Sebastian sighed in exasperation, sarcasm always seemed to go right over his head. What was it they said about people with extraordinarily high IQ's? They lacked common sense, so it was with Jim.

Deciding to go another route Sebastian asked, "You never said, how did you know I wasn't dead and that I'd turn up?"

Jim rolled out of his grip and sat up in bed pulling the quilt with him.  Sebastian hadn't missed the way he winced as he moved; the scar and the area where he'd been stabbed still pained him at times even though he'd never say it aloud.  He had a curious look on his face though and Sebastian almost wished he hadn't asked his question but it had been bothering him for months now, ever since Jim awoke from the coma.

"You know, ordinarily I don't allow myself to believe in common and boring things such as luck. You know how I feel about that but, since you've been in my life, I mean properly in my life, luck doesn't seem so fantastical. I truly didn't know you were still alive, I suspected the photo to be a mock up but I wasn't certain. I just kept hoping that you were as good as I believed you were. Turns out I was correct, as usual."

When he finished talking Sebastian put his arm back around his shoulders and pulled him close so he could kiss him.

"Okay, better question genius." Sebastian said playfully as he pulled away. "How did you know Davion was going to turn up and save both of our arses?"

Jim smirked. "C'mon Sebastian. Even _you're_ not that thick. He'd been phoning me and been unable to reach me. Davion has been a good friend for a very long time and an even better attorney. It's all down to him that you and I are lounging here having a holiday rather than rotting in a prison cell."

He wrinkled his nose disgustedly at the thought then he slid his hand beneath the cover to rest gently on Sebastian's upper thigh as he finished speaking. "No one gets to me Sebastian. I think that's obvious."

Sebastian laughed deeply at that last comment then he leaned down and kissed Jim's temple. It was comfortably silent then for a long time until Jim's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Are you?"

Sebastian blinked, wondering if he'd zoned out and missed part of the conversation.

"I-I'm sorry?"

Jim sighed in irritation.

"Are you sorry for the way things happened?"

He thought about it for a moment. His life had always been far from perfect that much was perfectly clear and he'd never had anything or anyone to keep him moving or to give him purpose. He felt badly about Andrea and he did wish there had been some way to help her but he guessed that ship had sailed years ago.  He also wished that so much else hadn't been lost but he had no trouble confessing that he'd murder a million people if it meant keeping Jim safe. So, no, he wasn't sorry and he told him so.

"Carl said something, near the end, he made a peculiar comment and I wonder if you can clear it up?"

Jim's voice was strange, uncertain. Sebastian reflexively tightened his hold.

"I'd be happy to-if I can. What was it?"

"He said that you'd been ' _purring in his lap'_ for a long time and I'd been too blind to see it."

Sebastian was confused. There had been one time, many years ago, that he and Carl had 'exchanged favors' but that hardly counted as anything more than Sebastian getting off and Carl getting high. He explained that to Jim now.

"I'm pretty sure he was just trying to anger you or discredit me. Either way, he's gone and we have each other."

The autumn light outside the window was fading and the shadows were lengthening pleasantly.  Sebastian was pleased to realize that they'd not left the comfortable bed all day. Finally Jim sat up again and swung his legs over the edge of the bed while looking over his shoulder at Sebastian.

"C'mon tiger. I want to show you something."

He stood then and Sebastian watched as he walked, naked from the room grabbing his pajama trousers from the chair on his way.  Sebastian didn't need telling twice. He stood and followed him.

In the main room of the cozy house he found Jim standing beside the freshly kindled fire. On the middle cushion of the leather sofa was a file folder. He immediately felt apprehensive. Jim spoke without turning to look at him.

"Have a seat my dear."

Sebastian followed his orders and had a seat. There were two empty wine glasses on each side table along with an opened bottle of Pinot Noir. When the fire was blazing Jim turned and came to sit on the sofa next to Sebastian.

"Be a dear and fill our glasses, yeah?"

Jim was rifling through the folder and Sebastian did as he was asked. When he'd handed the full wine goblet to Jim and he held his own lightly they sat in silence for a bit as they listened to the merry crackling of the fire. Finally Jim's shining eyes locked with Sebastian's.

"Sebastian, I have here every letter and every photograph that Carl had sent to me. I imagine that you also still possess the one he brashly sent to you."

Sebastian nodded. It was a painful memory. Jim sipped his wine thoughtfully before continuing. Sebastian couldn't look away.

"You mean a lot to me Sebastian and I want you to know that. I confess I am lacking when it comes to expressing my feelings so take this as a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Sebastian grinned. He was enjoying the warmth from the fire; the night had turned decidedly chilly and made his joints sore so the warmth was quite welcome. He watched as Jim pulled out a few of the glossy photos and leafed through them. His gaze seemed distant as he glanced at the memories of his younger years.

"I _did_ love him. You must understand that or we can go nowhere from here. He was my entire world for a time but I was young and he was younger. We were both quite stupid.  We weren't meant for each other, not like you and I."

He smiled wistfully then and took the first photo which Sebastian could not see and tossed it onto the flame where it immediately caught in a burst of orange tinged with black.

"He was weak Sebastian. He was easily influenced and incapable of making his own decisions. He was insecure and far too needy."  He scrunched his nose in irritation.

"This is us cutting those ties and moving forward." He then took the entire stack and tossed them in the grate. The flame shot up hotly as it hungrily devoured the new fuel. When the fire died a bit more he took the stack of papers that were the notes and he leaned forward intending to throw them in as well but Sebastian grabbed his wrist to stay him.

"A-Are you certain? If you discard those you'll have nothing left of him. Is that truly what you want?"

Jim smiled and gently tugged his wrist free. "I've never been more certain of anything."

Sebastian felt a warmth spread through his entire body that had nothing to do with the fire or the wine. He was truly happy. Once the fire had gone back to normal Jim turned to him and took his free hand in his while raising his glass.

"To endings..." He paused thoughtfully, " _and_ beginnings." After they drank to the toast they were quiet for some minutes until Sebastian's curiosity got the better of him.

"How did you know that Andrea was the one anonymously extorting money from you over all those years?"

Jim didn't answer immediately and Sebastian wondered if he would at all.

"It wasn't exactly extortion as much as it was blackmail but you know my methods. I paid her because I needed my perfect moment to ensnare her." He shrugged while he drank and stared into the fire. Sebastian thought for a while. Finally he sighed and leaned across the sofa to where Jim was sitting and pulled him closer.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me. I know what kind of man you are and I want to tell you how much it means."

He leaned in then and kissed him on the mouth with such intensity that it made both men forget that there was a world beyond the one they lived in. He loved this man and he didn't even care if he was a beautiful calamity, he'd never let him go. Finally after a few minutes and when both needed a moment to breathe much needed oxygen, Sebastian laughed. Jim smiled in wonderment.

"What's so amusing my dear?"

Sebastian took a sip of his wine and said, "Everything."

Jim nodded and chuckled as well. Then he said, "We should probably stay away from London for a while longer. Where d'you think we should go?"

Sebastian didn't even have to ponder the question. He replied, "Venice."

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters. I have been working on this for ages and I think I'm finally happy with the first chapter, hope you enjoy!! Thanks for reading!!


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